


The Time Is Always Now

by Arcangel19



Series: Mitchell Highway Investigations [3]
Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Deaf Character, Falling In Love, Family, Homophobia, Love, M/M, Organized Crime, Police, Private Investigators, Rape Aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 116,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26139661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcangel19/pseuds/Arcangel19
Summary: Ben and Callum have just come out of a nightmare with a stalker threatening their family. Everything is returning to normal ... but it's their normal, which is never straightforward.This is the third instalment of Mitchell-Highway Investigations. I've done my best for it to make enough sense on its own but, honestly, you would be better reading at least MHI2 before this one as I am picking up loose ends from that story.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Series: Mitchell Highway Investigations [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1856014
Comments: 83
Kudos: 45





	1. There are always consequences

Wrists and ankles bound, mouth taped, standing at the edge of a long derelict wharf, he knew his time was up. The black water looked viscous and oily in the deepest dark of night and he tried not to imagine its slick stream flooding his lungs. His murderer worked quietly – no words, no eye contact – attaching a concrete block to the ankle binds. He looked down at the black woollen hat on broad shoulders below him, at the dextrous glove-clad fingers busy tying knots and pulling them to test that they were fast. Fast. He hoped it would be although he wasn’t even sure if he was frightened any more. Certainly, when he was seized from behind, a rough hand smothering his mouth, another pulling his arms behind his back, he had been scared. Then a sharp crack to the head was followed by him coming round dazed and confused in the oppressive dark of a car boot, and, yes, he had been terrified. But now, hours later, numb with cold and surrender, fear didn’t seem to be worth the effort any more.

Instinct was telling him that this was to do with Callum and Ben. Shuddering at the memory of their fury on that last day, he accepted that he’d underestimated them at every point: how tight they were together, how smart they were, how good at investigating and, maybe most significantly, how dangerous. Ben had thumped him, an impetuously angry strike, but it was Callum who had scared him more, his face clearly showing that he was working hard to control his rage, his eyes darkening below focused, furrowed brows, his beautiful smile replaced with an angry, hard line. He had been left with a distinct impression that Callum would have beat the living daylights out of him. They had found out everything about him. Why had he thought they wouldn’t? Then, even though they had him cornered, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from having one last go at hurting Callum by reporting Ben’s assault. What had he been thinking of? Was he here now because of that? Because he tried to get Callum’s precious husband arrested? He had assumed he was dealing with ordinary folk but in these last minutes in the dirty, dank silence of this decaying waterside, he conceded that he hadn’t known them at all.

Finally, the killer was satisfied with his handiwork. Standing up, he paused for a moment, taking in his surroundings. A dilapidated ruin of an old warehouse protected them from prying eyes and a deserted, rusting barge on the river screened them from the opposite bank. The dispiriting, pitch-black silence was testament to the emptiness. His victim was standing, toes curled over the edge, still and mute, hair long enough to be caught by the sluggish breeze betraying that he was in fact a person. Almost as an afterthought, the killer pushed his victim into the water, leaning over the edge to watch the body be swallowed by the inky mass. No struggle, no shout, no sign that anything had happened.

+++

DCI Terri Wilcox stood on the crumbling dock, hands pushed firmly in the deep pockets of her coat, ignoring the freezing weather of this February morning as the recovery team squelched around in the stinking, grey mud below. Forensics were down there as well getting their knickers in a twist about rules and procedures. Terri felt a twitch of irritation as she watched them. Even she could see that the poor sod had been tied up, attached to a heavy block and pushed in the water. Get the fucking body up here before the sodding tide comes back in, she wanted to scream at them. She couldn’t be bothered to listen to their conversation and tuned out. Why was she always surrounded by fools? Her mood lifted slightly as a warm, cardboard cup was thrust into her hand.

“Guv,” said the cup bearer, one of her team, DS Joe Munday. He was unsurprised to receive no thanks for his gift, or no acknowledgment at all, but he was confident he’d done the right thing. Working with Terri on and off for ten years, he had learned her habits and needs. She was an extremely difficult boss, prone to losing her temper with anybody who couldn’t keep pace with her thinking, totally intolerant of mistakes and generally unkind but she had an arrest rate second to none and Joe knew that was a good thing to be around.

Eventually the body was lifted out, fully encased in a zipped up black PVC bag and was put into the mortuary van. Terri glared demandingly at the attending pathologist, Dr Ailsa McCarney, as she emerged over the side of the quay, mud up to her thighs. Ailsa had found the ascent difficult and the last thing she wanted to see was Terri Wilcox’s perfectly made-up albeit scowling face. She sighed inwardly before supplying the details.

“Around 30, white, male, brown curly hair, around 175cm tall, slim, muscular, blunt force trauma to the back of his skull, wrists and ankles bound, weighted which may point to death by drowning, sticky residue around mouth maybe suggests he was gagged with tape at some point, we have collected some discarded tape. No ID yet. No idea how long he’s been there.” Ailsa glared back at Terri – god, she hated the woman – daring her to ask more questions. Both women knew that there were no more answers until the post-mortem.

“Let us know when you’re going to start him,” said Terri shortly and stalked off to her car, spinning the tyres on the loose gravel as she sped off. Ailsa looked at Joe, her sympathy evident on her kind, mud-stained face.

“I take it you need a lift now.”

“Yeah thanks,” he said, careful to keep his expression neutral.

+++

Callum and Ben looked blankly at one of their best friends, Ollie, also their lawyer.

“CPS said what?” queried Ben, unable to make sense of the legalese Ollie had just spouted.

“CPS is not going to charge you for the assault on Noah and they’re not going to charge Noah for his stalking of Callum and the assault on Lexi.” Ollie was trying to find the right words to state the cases plainly. “There is evidence against you, Ben, they have photos of his face where you hit him, but Noah has not been seen since the end of January. It’s almost a month and he hasn’t shown up to make a formal statement. They consider your evidence against Noah to be … weak. So they’re dropping both sets of charges.”

“Weak? We gave them loads,” protested Ben.

“The fact that you invited him to stay with you when you didn’t know him makes them suspicious of you, not Noah. To them, your story sounds far-fetched, with a whiff of a squabble between hysterical promiscuous gays. You know how they think,” explained Ollie, referring to the deep-rooted homophobia present in the police force. “There is no evidence for the assault on Lexi, not even that Noah was responsible for drugging Robbie.”

“So the restraining order?” asked Ben. Ollie shook his head.

“You could still apply…” he offered.

Callum reached for Ben’s hand.

“It’s good, yeah, the charge against you bein’ dropped,” he soothed, rubbing a reassuring thumb over the back of Ben’s hand. Ben nodded. How could he ever have explained to the children that he had been arrested again? This was a good outcome only … what if Noah came back?

“We could try to find him,” suggested Callum, reading Ben’s mind.

“Or you could look at his past form and assume he won’t be back.” Ollie thought this was the best option as keeping tabs on Noah meant not being free of him and Callum and Ben needed to move on from this. “If he does come back though, you call the police. Don’t get into it with him.”

“Okay,” agreed Ben uncertainly. “We park it.” The three of them clinked beer bottles to seal the deal. They had all been taken in by Noah’s charm and wanted to draw a line under the whole sorry affair.

Callum looked at Ollie, noticing that his spirits were low. With skin as black as Ollie’s, it was hard to see dark circles beneath his eyes but Callum thought they were probably there. His broad shoulders were slumped and he was carrying his whole body heavily. Callum couldn’t remember the last time that he had seen him smile.

“Looking tired Ols,” he remarked. “You not sleeping?” Ben had been thinking something similar and watched interestedly for Ollie’s reply.

“Dad’s giving me some beef,” Ollie admitted. “Wants me to be a bigger player in the firm so I’m having to prove myself. It’s a lot of work.” He sipped his beer thoughtfully. Saying it aloud had just made him realise that the workload wasn’t the problem. Being with his closest friends in the world, drinking beer and chatting about life, gave him the space to see things a little more clearly. “I believe in legal representation for all, the need for a criminal defence lawyer to represent those accused of wrongdoing and it’s been my dream to be a barrister.”

“Wow! That is one big BUT,” commented Ben, hearing the uncertainty and implicit conflict in Ollie’s words.

“Yeah,” agreed Ollie. Ben was absolutely right. “Some of these people are scumbags and I don’t want to be their lawyer friend. It makes me feel … unhappy. Not the person I want to be. But I don’t want to let dad down again.” His shoulders slumped even further. “I’ve got a great job, a beautiful flat, top friends, a loving family. I need to count my blessings.” He straightened himself up and smiled brightly, fooling neither Callum nor Ben. They knew Ollie’s ex, Johnny, with whom they were also close friends, had recently met somebody else. Ollie didn’t want to reunite with Johnny but seeing him loved up was possibly difficult and that had happened the previous night.

“How did you feel about seeing Johnny with Nathan last night?” asked Ben, dispensing with the elephant in the room.

“Hmm, it was okay. I mean Nathan seems steady and will be good for Johnny. They were cute together, seems like they’re falling for each other. Early days though, they’ve only been together three weeks. Let’s not marry him off just yet. But I am happy for him.” They knew Ollie genuinely wanted happiness away from each other for him and Johnny but his pained face revealed that the story was more complicated than that and Callum’s and Ben’s hearts ached for him.

“Just us here Ols,” said Callum, offering a safe space. Ollie stepped into it willingly.

“I spent so much of my life hiding boyfriends,” he explained. “But when I met Johnny, he was THAT important it was like a shot of adrenaline and it gave me the strength to come out to my family. But do you know what they did last weekend? Tried to set me up with a woman! Like they think Johnny, being gay, was all just a phase.” He sighed heavily. “I’m going to have to come out all over again if I meet somebody else who is important to me.” He surveyed Callum and Ben, the best couple he had ever met and wondered if they knew that most people never, ever found what they had. Sitting here with them, he understood that he was terrified that he would never have again what he’d had with Johnny, that connection, the sense of belonging with someone. Love was over with Johnny but that hadn’t diminished his belief that he could find lasting love. 

They were in the room off the kitchen, with its wall full of square photo tiles depicting the most cherished moments of Callum’s and Ben’s life together. It was Ollie’s favourite room in this house and was helping to provide a safe environment for him to search for clarity. He was featured in this montage of photos and he loved and appreciated his inclusion. There was love in abundance in this house and it was his to share. Callum and Ben were his closest friends. But he knew he wanted his own version.

“I want a husband. I want a family. I want to adopt children from trouble.” His admission startled even him to hear it spoken aloud but he had felt this deep-rooted truth come from his core, burning a path on its way to the surface. It was time for it to be part of his conscious thought.

“Yeah, maybe don’t start with that on your profile,” advised Ben, instantly lightening the mood. “Focus on the six foot two of pure buff.” Ollie rolled his eyes.

“I can’t face a dating app,” he moaned, the mere thought plunging him into fresh despair.

“Well, then, we are just gonna have to go out dancing and find you somebody nice,” said Ben, offering up his bottle for more clinking.

+++

Mitchell Highway Investigations was a successful PI business, mainly dealing with cheating partners and locating lost loved ones. Callum had founded the company with his friend Frankie Lewis and they had been joined by their respective partners, Ben and Marcus, as the business grew. Later two more operatives had joined, Charlie (who only ever worked remotely from his flat) and Meg, both experts in online matters. With the six of them, the business thrived earning them all a good living. But they had been dealt a serious blow when a missing fifteen-year old had been killed and they all believed there were places where they could have done better. It had been difficult and traumatic and the company had crumbled leaving just Callum and Ben but, recently, Charlie and Frankie had returned. Callum and Ben could not have been more relieved and happy.

While Charlie was away from MHI, his computer system had been hacked. It had now been three weeks since this and it felt as big a violation as if he’d had burglars in his flat in the dead of night. His anxiety levels, always a significant issue for him, were through the roof. The relief at coming back to MHI and having Ben to help him was like being given safety lines. Ben had tied them all off securely and Charlie was able to breathe again. They had arranged to video call this Friday morning to further explore the hack.

“So what were they looking at?” asked Ben, getting down to business.

“Meg.” Charlie paused. “I had created a full history for her but they focused on the items I added most recently so I know they can work out when I have added things …”

“… so they will know it’s a fake history,” concluded Ben. Charlie nodded, his disappointment evident. He’d thought he was better than that and it was crushing for him to realise he had not been good enough.

“Have you told Meg?”

“Not yet.” Ben thought that was odd. Charlie and Meg were friends and had a weekly chat slot like he did with Charlie. He was about to ask Charlie why he hadn’t told Meg when Callum came in, a little later than usual as he’d stopped to have a chat with friends, Eddie and Emma, at the school gates.

“Hey Charlie,” he smiled as he squeezed into the shot, placing an arm around Ben and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. Charlie noticed how Ben leaned in to press against Callum’s side and turned slightly, offering himself for the kiss, and how his face blissed out for a moment. It was his favourite Ben. “How are you?” Callum continued, disentangling himself from Ben, remembering perhaps a little too late that they were trying not to cause Charlie to feel uncomfortable with their intimacy. There was nothing to worry about today, though.

Ben was about to get back to the subject of Meg when the doorbell rang. Callum jumped up to answer it and was surprised to see Frankie, Marcus, DI Amanda Peacock and DS Adam Akhtar on the doorstep.

“This doesn’t look like a social call,” he said, leading them into the living room where Ben was with Charlie. Frankie spotted Charlie on the screen and immediately went to say hello, taking the tablet away from Ben so that she could type in the chat but also making sure that Amanda and Adam could not see the screen.

“Is that your mystery colleague?” asked Amanda, not missing a trick. Marcus signed for Frankie and Amanda, once again, kicked herself for not bringing a signer to a meeting with this crew.

“It is,” answered Ben. “Staying a mystery,” he added. “But you know he’s here, so we’re good, yeah?”

“Hmmm,” hummed Amanda, unconvinced. “It’s good he’s here though because we think this involves him. So let’s get straight into it. Megan Smith. We know she was formerly Tracye Hayes and we think your colleague is probably the one who created her new identity. We can’t prove it and we’re not trying to so let’s put that to one side.” She needed to find a way to get past the problem of the mystery colleague and recognised that she had to make the first compromise, which was ignoring a previous crime. It was dangerous territory for a police officer but by no means uncommon.

 _Don’t go. It’s ok_ typed Frankie to Charlie. Amanda saw her and cursed inwardly that her compromise had not been repaid as she had hoped but reluctantly decided she could delay the battle for open communication. Frankie saw her reaction and decided to meet her partway by reading out her message.

“Not hiding anything,” she added.

“Okay, thankyou.” Amanda heaved a sigh of relief, grateful that her gamble had paid off to some extent at least, and looked at Adam. They’d talked on the way over and she was aware that he thought she should tell them everything even though they both knew their Detective Superintendent would not approve. Adam held Callum, Ben and their team in high regard and had no issues with operating within grey areas. He was clever and focused on making progress with their investigation. Amanda wasn’t worried about him disapproving and she decided to reciprocate the openness. “And neither are we. So I am going to tell you something in the strictest confidence.” She could see she had their attention. “Megan Smith has visited Jackie Highway in prison twice. The first time was last November, the second was in January.”

Everybody turned to Callum and witnessed his horrified reaction.

“Why?” he asked. Amanda hadn’t believed that Callum was aware of the visits but she was still relieved to see his genuine surprise.

“We don’t know,” replied Amanda. “But we would like to. So let’s start at the beginning. What was she doing here?”

Callum and Ben locked eyes, in tune with each other as ever, to make a decision.

 _We’re going to trust them. All okay with that?_ Ben signed for the rest of the team. Adam had been trying to learn a bit of signing and thought he picked up ‘trust’ and definitely the thumbs up for ‘okay’. He found himself signing _okay_ to Amanda. It was a sign everyone knew, surely. There was nodding all round and Amanda picked up for herself that they had agreed to trust her and Adam.

“She hired us to expose Julie Golding. With Julie in prison, Meg believed she would be safe. But Meg is great at tailing and she’s a whizz on the computer, so she started doing some work for us.” Ben was racking his brain, searching for a clue that Meg was a fraud but couldn’t come up with anything. “I didn’t get to know her that well.” He looked around at the others.

“So what can we tell you about Meg?” asked Callum, addressing Amanda and Adam. “You know her history as Tracye Hayes as much as we do. Since then she’s been living alone, does tech repairs for a living. As she’s autistic …” He paused noticing that Amanda and Adam had stopped still at that.

“We didn’t have that,” said Adam. “Tell me about it.” His pen was poised to make notes.

“It’s in her school record,” snapped Ben, annoyed that her autism had been ignored. Why? Because her disability was invisible? “She experiences sensory overload, particularly sensitive to loud noise. Little eye contact. Solitary, few friends …” said Ben.

“… I got the impression she wanted to be around people … although maybe not all people, maybe just us,” added Callum. “She doesn’t have anxiety about her personal space, she’ll sit close to you and you can touch her, although I hugged her once and I’d say she was meh about that.”

“She has exceptional focus and picks things up really quickly,” said Marcus, thinking of the times he had watched her working on the computer.

“The only thing she worries about with her autism is that she feels uncertain about how she is doing socially,” said Frankie. “She once asked me to stop her from walking away from our conversations, or more to help her stay in the conversation I think. But when we were interviewing witnesses for work, she was really good at that type of conversation. She’s funny, sharp, strong. I talked to her the most out of all of us. I like her a lot. Callum and Marcus were a bit like dads for her,” she shrugged at their indignant expressions, “… but we were friends.” She looked across at Ben thoughtfully. “We were all really welcoming and friendly except Ben and she found that confusing. She was a bit wary of him but told me once that she thought he was okay and she’d like to be friends with him.” Holding up the tablet, she added, “and she was friends with our colleague.”

“So what special considerations does she need?” asked Adam. The MHI team looked at him blankly.

“We’re the ones with the limitations, DS Akhtar,” advised Amanda. “She’s vulnerable because she’s involved with criminals and, like anybody but especially as an autistic person living in a world that sees that as a problem, needs support individually tailored to her. Let’s not treat her like she’s cognitively challenged. Do you think she would say she has high support needs?” She directed the question at Frankie.

“No,” said Frankie, “not if you’re not being arseholes.” Ben smothered a laugh and silently applauded Frankie. Fair enough, thought Amanda.

 _Tell Ben to tell them about the hack_ typed Charlie. Frankie knew nothing about the hack and frowned at Charlie before passing the tablet to Ben.

Ben: _You sure?_

Charlie: _Yes. And you can tell them my name. I think they know anyway so it will show trust._

“Okay,” started Ben. “Charlie,” he tapped the tablet to indicate who he was talking about, “Charlie did create Meg’s new identity. But someone hacked his system and we know they were looking at Meg.”

“That was us,” admitted Adam, studiously avoiding eye contact with Amanda. She’d said they weren’t hiding anything after all. “The DI recognised her last time we were here, knew that she’d met her before and we were concerned you’d been infiltrated. If it’s any consolation, we couldn’t identify Charlie or his location.”

Charlie: _It’s okay. I prefer it to be DS Akhtar and DI Peacock than anybody else. How many police know?_

Ben read out his message.

“One other. Our hacker,” replied Adam.

Charlie: _Stephen Fung_

“Yes,” laughed Adam. “One up, Charlie. Maybe we should get you to come and work for us.”

Ben watched Charlie’s pleased reaction and wondered if this could possibly be a way to bring Charlie in further away from the cold. He resolved to find some time to talk to Amanda about it.

“So back to Megan,” redirected Amanda, thinking that Charlie could be quite a useful asset and deciding to talk about it to Ben later. “I have two scenarios. One, she has conspired with Jackie to remove Julie Golding from the organised crime picture so that they can take over her money laundering business. Two, Jackie found Megan and threatened to hurt her if she didn’t do as she was told which was to remove Julie Golding from the organised crime picture so that they can take over her money laundering business. You can see what I’m thinking about Jackie and money-laundering.”

“It seems a bit convoluted,” observed Ben. “Surely Jackie could’ve got rid of Julie without Meg or us.”

“We think she needs Meg’s computer skills. Money laundering is a strictly online business now,” explained Adam.

“Maybe she needed you because she wanted us,” suggested Amanda. “Jackie would get quite a kick out of manipulating the police. Getting us to remove someone in her way – I reckon that would appeal to her.”

“But how has she connected you and us?” Callum’s naivety touched Amanda; it was times like this she was certain he could have no criminal leanings.

“She’ll have eyes on us, babe,” said Ben knowingly. Amanda had to smile to herself for the contrast with what she had just been thinking about Callum but, in truth, was thankful that Ben was more aware. It would keep them safer. They all sat for a few moments mulling over what they knew and what they didn’t know; it seemed to be more of the latter than the former.

“Is Meg bad herself or did Jackie threaten her to make her do the bad stuff? That’s the question?” asked Frankie.

“Either way she’s done something bad,” observed Marcus. He turned to Amanda and Adam. “Do you have proof that Jackie and Meg have taken over Julie’s business?” They shook their heads.

“Could there be another reason Meg visits Jackie?” questioned Callum. “Maybe her reasons for coming to us - to find Julie Golding and expose her criminal activity – were legit?

“It is possible,” conceded Amanda. “We still don’t know why she visits Jackie. It’s a question we need to answer.” They fell into another silence. There were too many unknowns. Eventually Amanda stood up, Adam following her lead.

“Meg is under police surveillance so bear that in mind if you decide to investigate her yourselves. You WILL be spotted. If you find anything, let us know and, as far as we can, we’ll keep you informed. Keep out of the money-laundering racket – we’ve got that covered.” Amanda smiled at them all. “See you next time,” she said cheerily. “Nice to meet you Charlie,” she directed at the tablet. Adam turned back as they left and grinned.

“I think DS Akhtar likes us,” observed Frankie.

“Let’s go in the office so Charlie can see all of us at once,” suggested Ben and led the way. Once there, Charlie appeared on the big screen.

“You seriously okay with them knowing who you are?” asked Ben.

“They were close to finding out anyway,” explained Charlie. “Telling them might stop them looking and will keep them away from some … things. Also, it is a display of trust which I think makes sense to show.” Ben pursed his lips and nodded his approval.

“So why have you not told Meg that someone is looking for her?” he asked, then seeing everybody else’s confused faces, he explained. “Charlie knew someone had been in his files looking at Meg.”

“I thought it might be the police; there were indicators,” Charlie admitted. “So I … … I hacked into Meg’s system to see what she’s been doing.” His face was now deep red, revealing how much internal conflict this had caused him.

“Charlie mate. That can’t have been easy for you to do,” sympathised Ben. Charlie nodded sadly.

“Her system is very tightly locked down,” he continued, “which means she’s doing something she really doesn’t want discovered. Whatever that is, it’s likely to be illegal. But I wanted to know what it was before I talked to her about the police.”

“Okay,” said Callum, feeling that they needed to set out some definite actions. “So we know we can’t tail her - she’d make us in a heartbeat. Which leaves online surveillance. Charlie and Ben – you good for that?”

“I have an idea,” interjected Frankie. “Let’s ask Meg to help us find out who hacked Charlie. It wasn’t her so she’ll want to know. Then when she sees it’s about her and the police are involved, it will force her to react and we can watch her from that point. Or if Jackie is threatening her, she might come clean.”

“Risky but no risk no gain, so I say yes,” declared Ben. “Me, Charlie and Frankie on it.”

+++

The following Monday morning team meeting was swift. Ben, Frankie and Charlie were expecting to meet Meg after the meeting, so Callum was on his own with the butters (bread and butter business which referred to cheating partners) and the lolos (Callum: Lolos? Ben: Lost Loved Ones, Callum: What?). There were several of each – too many for him to do alone even if he was quick at online searching, which he definitely wasn’t - making him realise that he would have to cap the time spent on Meg. He was very aware that they had barely broken even so far this year and they needed to do some profitable work.

When Meg arrived, she was nervous and unable to hide it and, as they showed her evidence of the hack on Charlie and linked it to the police, her agitation grew exponentially.

“They’re looking at me?” she asked, anxiously ripping the skin around her non-existent nails. “Why?”

“We think we let you down,” said Ben, somewhat uncomfortably as he was starting with an apology that was manipulative . “We told you DI Peacock wouldn’t recognise you but she did. The police then dug into your past which led them into Charlie’s files.” He watched her carefully looking for a chink but Meg had closed down. There was only one more card to play and Ben wanted to make sure he played it at exactly the right time. Which wasn’t now. Surely there were other questions he could ask, he thought.

“The police visited us,” said Frankie, with a swift side glance at Ben. “They wanted to know what you wanted with MHI. Have they visited you?” Ben could have kissed her. His guilt over manipulating Meg was clouding his thinking but, as ever unfailingly in tune with him, she had found a way of widening the questions. He reminded himself to remember the purpose of their questioning so refocused on Meg.

“No,” mumbled Meg, now wondering why they hadn’t. “What did you tell them?”

“That you wanted Julie Golding to go down for her crimes and you asked for our help.” Ben’s voice gave nothing away. He was still watching her carefully and, feeling his scrutiny, she reflected that she’d always suspected that he would see through her. Couldn’t he also see that she wasn’t a bad person?

“You said you hadn’t been able to locate Sam Turner and that you didn’t know her new identity,” stated Frankie not hiding her accusatory tone. Meg heard it.

“Okay I knew who she was and how to find out what she was doing,” she confessed. “But I needed somebody to deal with the police. I couldn’t do that. Charlie had talked about you so I thought you could help.” Meg was hopeless at lying but this was actually the partial truth. She replayed her words in her head wondering if they gave a full enough explanation to seem like a full truth. Maybe they did but she was finding it hard to tell from Ben’s and Frankie’s reactions. Frankie was spinning from side to side on her chair, hands holding onto the seat, her big eyes staring inquisitively at Meg. Ben was leaning right back on his chair, legs stretched out, twizzling a pen in his fingers and chewing his lip as he watched Meg under hooded eyes. She glanced at Charlie but he was looking away. Did they know about Jackie? It felt like they might know.

Ben suddenly sat forward in his chair, sliding it forward so that he was immediately in front of Meg, fixing her with his bright, blue eyes. He’d always worried her with his eyes because she could never tell what he was thinking; he made her feel like he could see right inside her head so that what she was thinking was broadcast straight to him. Eyes were usually very difficult for her but Ben’s were impossible, impossible to look at, impossible to look away – it was confusing and deeply uncomfortable.

“Come on Meg,” he said softly. “Think. The police haven’t talked to you. Do you think they’re not interested in you?” His hands gently picked up hers and held them loosely.

Quickly enough, realisation dawned. “They put me under surveillance,” she said in a resigned tone. Ben’s hold on her hands became firmer but Meg didn’t want to pull away. It was like he was holding onto her to keep her from sinking. And she was sinking, of that she was certain. Her lips were dry and she could feel her heart racing - the urge to flee was building to unbearable proportions. “I need to go,” she whispered. “Please. But I will come back. I just need to go.” Ben squeezed her hands, a brief gesture to remind her that he was there for her, and then let go, sliding his chair back.

Meg was gone in a flash.

Frankie and Charlie looked at Ben, confusion written clearly on their faces.

“It’s okay,” he said. “She’ll come back.”

+++

DCI Terri Wilcox hated post-mortems, partly because she hated Ailsa McCarney (although deep down she was aware that Neil McCarney’s resistance to her charms, although possibly to do with his wife, couldn’t really be blamed on her), partly because she found the process intolerably slow but mostly because she had never mastered the suppression of her gag reflex. Why couldn’t she get over it? She hated weakness.

The gallery was freezing, yet another thing with which Terri struggled. She was stick thin, a hard achieved reward of a punishing regime of daily running, and she felt every tiny drop in temperature, so the morgue was torture. Couldn’t they put some heating in the gallery?

“DS Munday tells me you have a positive identification,” she snapped tersely.

“Yes. His name is Noah Belasis. We got a fingerprint match. He’s in the system. He …” Ailsa tailed off as Terri stomped off. “Clearly not interested in how he died then,” she said to herself.

“I am,” said a voice, followed by DS Joe Munday appearing in the gallery. Ailsa smiled warmly at the long-suffering sergeant.

“Right then,” she started, and proceeded with the post-mortem.

+++

By the time Joe got back to the situation room, Terri had already got suspects on the board. The two DIs on the team were flitting around like flies not knowing where to land. Joe was aware that Terri thought that they were a pair of incompetents and generally gave them paperwork rather than fieldwork. His opinion was that they were lazy so the arrangement suited them. He looked across at his fellow DS, Manish Patel, who raised his perfectly groomed eyebrows above his sexy smirk. Joe and Manish were having a clandestine affair and were looking forward to Manish’s upcoming transfer to the Missing Person’s Unit; skirting around each other was getting harder every day.

“Right, this is what we’ve got,” barked Terri. Everybody listened instantly. “Victim, Noah Belasis, thirty years old, restaurant manager, homosexual. Murder looks like an organised hit. He was bound and weighted and thrown in the river. A harassment complaint was made against him in January by Callum Mitchell-Highway and Ben Mitchell-Highway.” She pointed at the photos on the board. “Callum, thirty three, Ben, twenty eight, homosexuals, married. To each other. They run a private investigation outfit. Noah Belasis had been staying with them and they maintain he drugged their dog and their daughter as some kind of vendetta against Callum.”

“The story was that Noah’s boyfriend left him because he was still in love with his ex, none other than Callum, and that Noah blamed Callum. So this pair invite him to stay with them? Does that make any sense to any of you? Noah said they wanted him there for a bit of fun. That makes a lot more sense to me. When they reported him for harassment and assault on their daughter, he reported Ben for assault, and had a bruised cheek to confirm his charge. He didn’t show to make a statement and all charges were dropped, the harassment, the assault on the Mitchell-Highway daughter and the assault on Noah. Evidence for the Mitchell-Highways’ allegations was weak.”

“But here comes the sweetener …” She looked around at her team, despairing of all of them with the possible exceptions of Joe and Manish. “… Ben, two stints in juvi, one for manslaughter, son of Phil Mitchell, currently serving at her majesty’s pleasure for money laundering. Callum, two arrests for ABH, son of Jackie Highway, currently inside for human trafficking. Angels these boys are not and I like them for this. If anybody can organise a hit, these boys can. So let’s make a case.”

Terri was well known for identifying culprits before the investigation had started and identifying them correctly. She had only got it wrong a handful of times in her career. It had become like a badge of honour for her.

“Should we talk to them, guv?” asked Joe tentatively. He was pretty sure that Terri had finished her spiel but she hated to be interrupted so it was worth being careful. There were findings from the post-mortem that might be important but she hadn’t waited at the morgue and hadn’t asked him for an update. Having once been told in no uncertain terms that if she wanted something, she’d ask for it, he was reluctant to speak up.

“You think they should have a voice when Noah doesn’t?” she asked silkily. Joe knew the answer to that was no, a silent no.

+++

It was a glorious early spring day, tart yellow daffodils zinging out everywhere. Callum loved them and had planted hundreds in their front garden so that everybody got a boost of sunshine every time they left the house or arrived home. Ben listened to Callum explain this as they walked away from the house and his heart erupted like a confetti fountain. Callum was utterly gorgeous and Ben had to continuously pinch himself that he was married to this wonderfully generous man.

“You look happy,” commented Callum, sneaking a sideways glance at his grinning husband.

“I am so fucking happy,” laughed Ben. “I love you, you love me. It’s something else, isn’t it? And your daffodils, well, they just make it even more perfect.”

They walked on towards the market, hand in hand, smiling at each other and not caring how soppy they looked. The daffodil theme was continued by the council as they hit the pedestrianised part of the high street with its massive concrete planters erupting with fanfares of dancing yellow trumpets. Whitney watched them approaching from some distance away and her heavy heart was lifted. There was nothing restrained about Callum and Ben, hearts on their sleeves, love sizzling between them – she thought they were adorable if a little daft and delirious.

“Look at you two lovebirds,” she quipped as they drew close, loving that she had such cute brothers-in-law. They both gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek as they stopped, making her giggle at the attention. “Where are you off to?”

“Lunch with mum at The Albert,” answered Ben, checking his watch.

“Are you late? Always late but worth the wait, eh?” teased Whitney, knowing that Ben particularly was never on time. He seized her around the waist, causing more giggling as he tickled her.

“You make that sound like it might not be true,” he griped jokingly as Whitney protested with a ‘what me?’ gesture and giggled again. She smiled as they walked away, cheered up for having seen them.

Kathy could see Whitney’s stall from her vantage point in The Albert and smiled as she watched the playing between Ben and Whitney. Ben looked as happy as she’d ever seen him and, as he and Callum walked across the road, unable to resist a quick kiss, she reflected on how happy she was for them.

Ben was obviously in a cuddly mood as Kathy was also treated to arms wrapped around her waist and a big sloppy kiss from her cheeky son, topped off by a lovely hug and a kiss from her son-in-law.

“You’re in a good mood,” she said, cupping Ben’s cheek and feeling his smile before leading them to a table near the window.

“New lunch menu?” asked Callum, perusing the card. “Looks interesting.”

“Tasting menu for us. We’re having all of it,” said Kathy, sitting down as though she meant business. They spent the next two hours trying the different dishes and discussing the merits of each, or Callum and Kathy did – Ben just ate.

“I’m going to need a lie down after eating so much,” moaned Ben, leaning back so his tummy had space to expand. He leered at Callum. “Fancy a lie down?”

“Oh stop it,” laughed Kathy. “And put that away,” she pushed his belly, “or Callum won’t want to do anything with you.” Of course, Ben pushed his tummy out even further.

“What are you doing for your birthdays?” asked Kathy, still frowning at Ben’s rotundity. “Can I throw you a party here? I could close for the night and we could start early for the children. The Tuesday?”

“So neither of our birthdays then?” sassed Ben.

“Ungrateful!” laughed Callum. “Yours is on the Sunday and the club isn’t open so there would be no bar staff; mine’s on the Thursday which is too big a night to close the club.” He turned to Kathy. “The Tuesday will be perfect. Thank you.”

+++

Joe and Manish were having a drink after work, at Manish’s house so they didn’t risk being seen by fellow police officers.

“Why do you think Wilcox told us they were all homosexuals?” asked Manish. “It’s like it’s evidence of something. What’s she saying? It’s evidence of promiscuity? Or it’s evidence of hysteria?”

“She thinks she’s getting it right ‘cause she’s not calling them poofs,” commented Joe despairingly, remembering the multitude of times he’d heard Terri Wilcox refer to gay men as poofs and worse. “Do you think she’s got it wrong this time?” He’d had uncertainty gnawing at his insides since the briefing. It was a brave move to suggest the unbeatable DCI Terri Wilcox might be wrong but he was being eaten alive by this niggle.

“Yeah, I do.” Manish was uncharacteristically certain. “I came across both of them, Callum Highway and Ben Mitchell they were then, when I was in Organised Crime a year and a half ago. They might come from crime families but it’s not who they are. I know I haven’t got long to go with murder squad so it might be down to you, but we should keep an open mind. I don’t like them for this.”

“Murder squad,” smiled Joe, settling back on the sofa. No matter how many names were given to the teams investigating homicides, murder squad was how they were known.

“I found out today which DI I’m with,” said Manish. “Richard Linsell. Lucky eh? I’ve heard good things about him.” Joe hadn’t heard of him and his mind drifted back to the faces of their prime suspects pinned to the evidence board. Men of his and Manish’s age, gay like him and Manish. Was he being swayed by these similarities? He needed to talk to them to get a better idea.

“How am I going to get to talk to them when Wilcox has said not to?” he wondered.

“Hmm, not sure but DI Peacock at Organised Crime knows them I think. I could have a sneaky coffee with her and ask her advice,” suggested Manish. “Or we could.”

+++

“DCI Wilcox thinks they organised a hit on Noah Belasis?” Amanda was taken aback. “What’s the evidence?” Manish and Joe explained about Callum’s and Ben’s connection to Noah and their criminal records. “How does that pass the evidence threshold?” she asked incredulously. “Has anybody even checked into Noah Belasis’ background? Has anybody checked Callum’s and Ben’s story about him? Has anybody checked their financials for a payment? Has anybody checked times and dates?” She turned to Manish. “Manish, you need to do these checks.”

“I’m moving to Missing Persons next week. Under DI Linsell,” Manish explained. To his surprise, Amanda Peacock looked relieved, got out her phone and made a call.

“Richard,” she said into the phone, “Amanda Peacock. Have you got a few minutes like now? … Great, Costa on Bridge Street.”

Richard Linsell arrived five minutes later and Manish and Joe went through their story again.

“Okay,” said Richard thoughtfully. “I met Noah Belasis once socially. And I know Ben and Callum, not as well as DI Peacock, but enough to know there is not a chance that they did this.” He looked at Joe. “I worked for DCI Wilcox some years ago so I know what I’m asking. How do you feel about opposing her prediction?”

“Yeah, not great,” admitted Joe. “But we have to get it right.” If Terri Wilcox found out he had gone behind her back, he was toast. She was a rank above DI Peacock and DI Linsell so he didn’t fancy their chances either.

“Yes WE do,” agreed Amanda. “You are not on your own DS Munday. The four of us are a team on this.”

+++

Kathy was delighted to be able to throw a party for Callum and Ben. She carried lots of guilt over the eight years she left Ben in the abysmal care of his dad and would throw a party every week if she thought it would make amends for that time, something she had long accepted was impossible. All she could do now was do her best to love Ben, her most precious boy, without limit - and that was easy because she did - but it was just a lovely thing to be able to do this for Callum and Ben. Her husband Mike was helping her decorate; he knew it meant a lot to her.

“Thanks love for helping me today,” said Kathy, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind and resting her head on his back. He was a quiet man, warm and loving, a definite contrast to her previous two husbands, and she knew that she had got it right this time.

“Place looks great,” he said, turning to hold her. “They’re going to love it. So … the plan is that everybody gets here at five, that’s any minute now, then we’re taking the children home at eight, including Peggy. And everybody else carries on partying.” She smiled up at him.

“Do you mind love?” she asked, knowing he didn’t.

“Do I mind putting exhausted children to bed and spending the evening with my beautiful wife cuddled up on the sofa?” He gave her a soft kiss to emphasise his approval of the plan.

“Cute!” said a voice from the door, announcing Ben’s arrival, swiftly followed by Callum and Louise and four excited children. Within seconds, music was put on and the children were dancing with Ben and Kathy.

“I swear he should have become a dance teacher,” remarked Louise. “He can’t help himself but teach them little moves and sequences. He was like this with me when we were kids only …” She drifted into silence. Callum looked at her curiously wondering what she had been going to say and then realised.

“It was okay for you but not for him,” he added, completing her sentence. Louise nodded sadly. “Did you see the school production when he was the lead?” Callum loved the idea of fifteen year old Ben playing Billy Elliott and had spent many an hour daydreaming about it. His efforts to get Ben to reprise the role for Callum’s entertainment had fallen on deaf ears. So far.

“I saw a dress rehearsal at school. Dad wouldn’t let us go to the performances. He didn’t speak to Ben for weeks afterwards, treated him like he was a pathetic waste of space.” She looked at Callum. “He had lots of tough times as a kid so it’s just brilliant he has you now.” She pushed Callum towards the dance floor. “Come on, let’s dance with him.”

Soon, the place was full of friends and family eating, drinking, chatting and dancing and, just before eight when the children were due to leave, Callum and Ben found a moment to stand back and take it all in.

“It’s a good atmosphere, don’t you think?” commented Callum, behind Ben with arms wrapped around his husband’s chest. Ben leaned against him, holding onto his arms and turned his head up for a kiss. Callum obliged and they stared into each other’s eyes smiling for a moment.

“Could be a little bit tough on Ollie,” remarked Ben, noticing how absorbed in each other Johnny and his new boyfriend Nathan were. Ollie was chatting, laughing and dancing, appearing to be cool about everything. “Although he seems good and not like he’s pretending. He’s a proper grown up, isn’t he?” Ben carried on. “I’d be sulking and stropping like you wouldn’t believe.” Callum smiled into his husband’s hair thinking that he would believe it.

“Louise and Richard look friendly to me,” he said, gently turning Ben’s head towards where they were sitting.

“Ooh yes, look at that.” Callum had to turn Ben’s head away to prevent him staring at his sister who was deep in conversation and sitting very close to Richard. “Ruby seems cool about it. Who’s that she’s talking to?” asked Ben.

“That’s Whitney’s and Stu’s neighbour, Camilla,” explained Callum. “I met her last week and she doesn’t know anybody in the area so I invited her. She’s Danish and … oh.” They watched Camilla sensually trail her fingers down the side of Ruby’s breast and Ruby respond with flashing eyes and a saucy smile.

“Yes oh,” laughed Ben. “Maybe it’s good that it’s time for the children to leave. This party could turn into a sex party.”

“In your dreams,” giggled Callum, pulling Ben towards the door so that they could say goodbye to school friends (parents and children), Kathy and Mike, Lexi, Roman, Tyler and Peggy. Lexi pleaded with them to let her stay but gave up when she saw they were not going to change their minds sending them a huge scowl as she left, fortunately not noticing Ben and Callum laughing at her or she would have been even more cross.

With the children gone, the music changed and the drinking became more of a thing. Ben wasn’t entirely wrong. It did seem to be a party where lots of people were getting into each other; not everybody – the majority were dancing and talking. Callum sat down for a moment and looked around spotting Frankie and Marcus who were as close as any couple he knew but rarely spent a moment together when they were out socially; this party was no different with Frankie dancing with Ollie and Marcus chatting with Stuart and Whitney. Callum switched his attention to his brother and sister-in-law. They weren’t given to public displays of affection beyond hand holding and the odd cuddle. So different to him and Ben, he thought, catching eyes with Ben as he sashayed over. Sexy. 

“’S like a teenage house party in here,” murmured Ben, settling himself astride Callum’s thighs, enjoying the shivery tingle he felt run through Callum as he gently ground his hips. “How about a blow job in the store room?” he whispered in his ear. Callum pushed him off his lap and grabbed his hand to drag him there.

“Mum’s office might be more comfortable,” suggested Ben as they passed the office door. He pushed down the door handle behind him as he backed into the room and was startled when Callum pulled him back out.

“Occupied,” breathed Callum, keeping his eyes locked on Ben, and pulling him down the corridor to the store. A look of concern flitted across Ben’s face as he wondered who knew where to find the key to the office. “Louise and Richard,” Callum reassured him. Ben raised his eyebrows but interest in his sister was lost as he got his husband exactly where he wanted him.

Johnny and Nathan were similarly engaged in the toilets; as he washed his hands, Ollie wished he couldn’t recognise the sounds from Johnny. One of the things about him that had frustrated Johnny was that he did not enjoy sex in toilets or in any public place. Was that so awful? Was he a prude? Callum and Ben got each other off everywhere and anywhere. They were probably sucking each other off in a dark corner somewhere right now, he thought, dejected about his non-existent sex life and wondering how he could make himself lighten up. Feeling like he needed some air, he went out onto the balcony and looked out over the deserted market. It was almost eleven so, even though the day had been mild, it was cold now and he was alone there.

A solitary figure wandered down the street carrying a guitar case. Ollie watched the man’s easy gait, his air of calm, and noticed his hair was tied back in a scruffy knot. The street lights cast his shadow behind then in front of him, shortening, lengthening, constantly and smoothly changing. It was almost hypnotic and Ollie was transfixed. Unexpectedly, the man looked up and caught Ollie’s perusal. And waved. Ollie waved back. Then guitar man was gone and the street was empty again. Ollie had lived his whole life in this area and felt it was part of him. Despite it being London, it was a small, contained and self-sufficient area with its own distinct character and Ollie felt like a small town boy, a feeling he liked. He loved his family, their strong sense of their Ghanaian roots, their stronger sense of their London homeland but he couldn’t not be gay however much they wanted that. So here he was, in a gay bar in his homeland, wondering how it was possible to be everything he wanted to be. A warm arm wrapped around his shoulder and another, on the other side, tucked around his waist. Callum and Ben.

“You okay, buddy?” asked Ben gently. Ollie nodded slowly.

“Getting there.”

“Come inside,” urged Callum. “Kathy booked a musician, her birthday present for Ben and me. He’s gonna play, we’re gonna listen, sing, dance.”

The mood had changed when they went back inside. It was late and some people had left, but those closest to Callum and Ben were all there, nursing end-of-night whiskies and warm, rich cocktails, relaxing and enjoying each other’s company in the mellow, intimate atmosphere. The guitar man had set himself up and was about to start.

“Hi, I’m Tom, I’m your entertainment for the rest of the night,” he started. And damn if he didn’t have the same soft Durham accent as Noah. Ollie looked at Callum and Ben in alarm and then laughed at himself. Tom looked at the three of them curiously for a split second then began an acoustic rendition of Mr Brightside, clearly knowing that it was a strong opening song to encourage participation. Matt and Amit jumped up and demonstrated a tango as he played. They were local ballroom dancing champions and Tom was delighted that they were so good. It was a great start to his set and his spine tingled as he got that familiar feeling that this was going to be a good crowd. As he hoped, everybody joined in with bits of the singing.

“Well, then,” he said as the song came to an end. “So the dancing’s on point, the singing is promising – I’m getting a good feeling about tonight guys. I can choose the songs or you can choose …” Immediately he received a barrage of requests, all of them good choices in his opinion. He liked these people. As the singer, he was in a perfect position for people watching. He knew Callum and Ben a little already but as dads, not like this. Birthday Boy Ben looked like a lot of fun, clearly enjoying the dancing and, along with Birthday Boy Callum, seemed to know all of the words to every song played. Then when they were together it was like no-one else was in the room. Tom saw a lot of happy couples in the course of his work but Callum and Ben were another level of happy. He saw how often their guests stole glances at them, as though just being around them might rub off. Or maybe they were intriguing and everybody wanted to know their secret. He found himself smiling as he watched them and choosing more love songs than usual.

“Where did Kathy find him?” Ruby asked Ben. “He’s great. Like understated and cool but captivating.” Ben looked over at Tom, recognising how talented he was.

“He’s Tyler’s guitar teacher. Ty’s only had three lessons so far but when mum found out Tom did gigs, I think she wanted to give him a chance. He’s only been in London since Christmas. Lives this side of Stratford.”

“I like him,” declared Ruby. “I’m going to see if he’d like to do a night at Sapphire. He’s good-looking as well.”

“Bored of Camilla already?” laughed Ben.

“Er, no,” protested Ruby. “She is … sexy as fuck.” A sharp memory stung Ben and he glanced at Johnny singing loudly with Callum and Nathan. “What? You look like someone walked over your grave,” commented Ruby.

“Yeah, just remembered something … something I didn’t … something that …” Ruby put her hands around his face.

“Something to let go,” she advised. Ben nodded at her. Camilla appeared behind Ruby, reaching her arms around Ruby’s waist and resting her hands on Ben’s hips bringing the three of them together with a suggestive smile.

“Ha, not me,” he smiled, removing her hands and giving them to Ruby as he backed away, catching Tom’s raised eyebrows and cheeky grin, and bumping into Ollie as he escaped.

“Do I give off the wrong signals, Ols?” he asked despairingly. “I mean it feels obvious to me that me and Callum are exclusive and deliriously happy together.”

“Clear as day, Ben,” said Ollie smiling.

“Come and dance with me,” said Ben aware that Tom was observing them and suspecting it wasn’t for him. Tom was indeed watching and was interested in the dancing skills of balcony man, so chose something he thought might be unexpected.

“Oh Little Mix!” exclaimed Ben, turning delightedly to Tom. “How did you know?” Tom laughed in the middle of his lyric.

“Okay, this is a cheesy one for Ben and …?” he announced.

“Ollie.” Ben supplied the name he could see Tom wanted.

“Ollie,” repeated Tom, carrying on singing, gaze focused on Ollie.

“What the fuck is this song?” whispered Ollie as Ben pulled him close and pushed him away with the music.

“Secret Love Song. From a few years ago. Lex loved it,” answered Ben, seizing Ollie in an old-fashioned hold and expertly guiding him around the dance floor. Everybody else melted away and sat down to sing along.

“Exhibition time. Just enjoy it,” whispered Ben in Ollie’s ear, before twirling him away.

“Who are we showing off to?” asked Ollie as they came close again.

“Me to Callum of course. You,” answered Ben, “you’re showing off to Tom. No, don’t look at him yet.” They continued moving around the floor. Ollie had danced with Ben many times and trusted him to lead and show them both off at their best. Coming back together, Ben was in his ear again.

“He’s singing for you. Come on Ols, dance for him.” Ollie risked a peek at Tom and saw him looking straight back at him, a gorgeous smile framing the words as he sang: _Why can’t I kiss you on the dance floor? I wish that it could be like that_. It was the single-most romantic moment of Ollie’s life. So he WOULD dance for this man.

Johnny witnessed the look between Ollie and Tom. He was happy for Ollie, really he was; Ollie deserved happiness and Johnny had a twinge of regret that he hadn’t provided that but he knew he didn’t want to be around to witness Ollie achieve it with another man. Nathan had been pushing him to go travelling, to make their way round the world as barmen. It was a good plan and maybe this was the time. He’d made some embarrassing mistakes with Ollie, Callum and Ben and some proper time away would put some distance between him and his misdeeds. And Nathan was a lot of fun, travelling with him could be fun, he was sure it could. He nudged Nathan.

“Wanna go?” he suggested. They slipped out quietly.

Ben felt the shift in Ollie and was on cloud nine that he had a part to play. He smiled widely at Callum who was watching like a proud husband having spotted that Ben was showcasing their friend. As the song came to an end, the next request was made and Tom dutifully played on, and Ollie, Ben and Callum sat at the bar with Frankie and Marcus to enjoy the rest of the set. Tom had picked up that Frankie was deaf and made sure he played Marcus’ requests from his impressive repertoire of signed songs. It was a side of humble, introverted Marcus that none of them had ever seen, signing and performing these songs, like beautiful lyrical dancing, for his girlfriend, and all of them were touched by the romance.

As the night came to an end, Ben and Callum were at the door making sure they said goodbye to everybody. Tom was packing away his kit and Ollie took a breath and walked over.

“Hey,” he said quietly. Tom snapped shut the last lock on his case and turned towards Ollie.

“Hey,” he replied.

“I wondered if you would be interested in, perhaps, if you like, meeting …” Ollie rolled his eyes upwards and coughed out a self-conscious laugh. “Sorry. How inarticulate.” He brought his eyes back down to look straight at Tom. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“I would.” Tom smiled and got out his phone, opened the contacts and handed it to Ollie. “I’ll text you,” he said. Ollie entered his details and smiled shyly before walking away. Almost instantly a text alert came in. It was an unknown number but Ollie knew it was Tom as he saw the kiss emoji. Swiftly turning round, he strode back and, hands on Tom’s shoulders, he kissed him softly on the lips.

“Can’t wait to see you again,” he murmured. Eyes burning with excitement, they took a moment to stare at each other before Ollie left.

Outside the door, he fell against the wall to gather his senses, aware that Callum and Ben were giggling at him. When he’d pulled himself together, he beckoned them into a group hug.

“Great party!”


	2. Stabbed in the front

DCI Terri Wilcox moved quickly and within a week of deciding they were guilty of organising the murder of Noah Belasis, she sent the hapless DI Linda Bird and the highly competent DS Joe Munday to bring in Callum and Ben.

“And they say crime doesn’t pay,” groused Linda, unwittingly repeating the sentiment of police officers who had gone before her as she stared at the house. Joe was inclined to agree with her, not so much about the crime but that the house was more than he had expected. He was the same age as Callum and he lived in a one-bedroom flat.

The door was opened by Callum.

“DI Bird and DS Munday,” introduced Linda. “Is Mr Mitchell at home? We want to speak to both of you.” Callum was tempted to tell her that Mr Mitchell was detained at her majesty’s pleasure but resisted and gestured for them to come in, taking them into the living room and calling for Ben as he did so. Ben arrived quickly from the back of the house having heard the urgency in Callum’s voice.

“DI Bird, DS Munday,” re-introduced Linda, as Ben sat down on the big sofa next to Callum. “We would like you both to accompany us to the station for questioning about a matter that has come to light.”

“Are we under arrest?” asked Callum as Ben got out his phone.

“I’m just contacting our lawyer,” he informed the two police officers as he made the call.

“We’re not arresting you at this time but if you don’t comply we will be forced to arrest you,” stated Linda. Just give me a reason, she thought.

“Oliver,” said Ben into his phone, using Ollie’s full name to communicate that this was a serious matter. “We have two police officers here wanting to take us down to the police station for questioning about a matter they’re not disclosing. They have threatened to arrest us if we refuse to go.” He listened for a minute then said, “See you there.” He turned to DI Bird. “We will travel in our own vehicle and our lawyer, Oliver Hargreaves, will meet us there.” Walking to the door, he held it open for them clearly indicating that they should leave. Obediently, DI Bird and DS Munday shuffled out.

“What is it now?” said Callum despondently as he pulled on a coat.

“Something to do with Meg and Jackie?” guessed Ben.

“Wouldn’t that be Amanda’s department though?” argued Callum. He and Ben looked at each other. “We can’t call her,” said Callum. “If they look at our phone records, they’ll see and it could cause problems for her.” Ben rooted around under the car seat and pulled out a package.

“Burner,” he explained. “For emergencies like this,” he explained further, seeing Callum’s surprise. He quickly made the call and explained the situation to Steve. “Can you call Amanda and tell her what is happening please?”

As they arrived at the police station, Callum and Ben walked in heads held high and holding hands. Joe was watching from an upstairs window, wondering how he was going to help them. His boss was adamant that they were responsible for Noah’s death.

“One time I was here, Richard Linsell met me in a normal room,” said Ben. “I remember thinking maybe they’d decided I was a good citizen not the spawn of crime. I … er … I suppose I liked it. It felt good.” Callum pulled him in close, knowing that this experience would upset Ben more than him. He’d grown up separate from his mum’s criminal ways whereas Ben had been surrounded by those of his dad, so Ben always felt contaminated. He’d had to fight harder to escape his past. Holding each other in a tight hug was how DCI Wilcox found them.

“Touching!” she sneered. “The Mitchell-Highways I assume. Come with me.”

“We are waiting for our lawyer Oliver Hargreaves,” asserted Callum calmly, Ben standing strong by his side.

“You’ll do as you’re fucking told,” she snapped. Callum and Ben stared at her. So did the duty sergeant, his disapproval of her language and tone barely hidden.

“We’re picking up on a threatening and aggressive attitude towards us. At no point have we refused to co-operate with you but we don’t feel safe and we will be waiting for Oliver Hargreaves.” Callum spoke his piece quietly but with determination.

“Come through to the interview suite. We can get you a drink while you wait for your brief,” said Joe, appearing from behind Terri and knowing he was going to get a severe bollocking for his consideration (or insubordination, which was how she would see it). “It’s a serious matter so we do need to talk to you separately,” he explained as he put them in a room each.

“What the fuck, DS Munday?” hissed Terri, as Joe closed the doors.

“They’re gay, guv. And they feel we’ve been aggressive and threatening.” He waited for reality to sink in for her. She already had two formal complaints of this nature against her.

“Fuckin’ faggots,” she muttered under her breath as she stomped away. Joe took a deep breath and went back down to reception to wait for Oliver Hargreaves. On his way down, he came across Amanda in the stairwell.

“You’ve brought them in for questioning and you threatened to arrest them? On what grounds?” Amanda was a small woman but her presence loomed large and Joe was aware that he had instinctively backed away.

“Their argument with the victim. I know it’s weak ma’am.” Amanda reined in her fury, knowing that Joe had been working hard to find a way to establish Calum’s and Ben’s innocence and to have a go at him was just shooting the messenger.

“Are you in the interviews?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am but DCI Wilcox is leading so …” He knew Terri would not allow him to ask the questions he wanted to ask. He’d already tried to explain to her that findings from forensics and the post-mortem could be used to establish the facts but she hadn’t wanted to know. She was completely certain she had her men.

“Okay, don’t worry about that. Butt in if you get the chance otherwise we’ll rely on Ollie. What have you got for him?” Amanda knew that time was against them and they needed to get a move on.

“He needs to ask about time of death. Blow to the back of the head was from a taller attacker, left-handed. Carpet fibres from a car boot found on the victim. None of this has been checked. But it should clear them from direct involvement. But the assumption is that they used a professional hit. Just I know their phone records, financials etc haven’t been checked. I’ve written it down for him.”

“Okay, I know Noah had handed in his notice at work and was due to finish on February 12th. He didn’t turn up on that day or two days before that. So we looked at CCTV for him leaving work on the 9th. Tracked him to a point midway between the restaurant and the hotel he was staying at. Just disappeared. Got a list of number plates of every car on the tape.” Amanda knew she was flying close to the wire investigating another team’s case but she was claiming an interest in Callum and Ben because of her interest in Meg and Jackie. Maybe it would fly if she found herself in hot water. She slipped Joe a sheet with everything written down.

Ollie was waiting downstairs and as he and Joe made their way upstairs, Joe said,

“Do you need to visit the little boys’ room before we start?”

It was a strange question and Ollie gleaned immediately that the answer was yes. As Joe indicated the door to the toilets, he patted his jacket pocket. It was a reflex reaction to copy the action but as Ollie patted his own pocket, he felt the papers that had been put there. Sitting in the cubicle, he quickly appraised himself of the information he had been passed and felt worried. If there were police trying to surreptitiously help Callum and Ben, they really were in trouble.

The first interview was with Callum.

“Callum Highway …” started Terri.

“Callum Mitchell-Highway,” interrupted Callum.

“Yes Callum Mitchell-Highway,” confirmed Terri impatiently. “Please confirm that you know this man.” She slid a post-mortem photograph of Noah across the table. It was a confrontational move, not at all what interview training advocated, thought Joe, who had recently completed this programme. Callum seized the photograph.

“He’s dead?” His voice shook and, disbelieving, he showed the picture back to Terri. “Is he dead?”

Ollie jumped in.

“Stop. I want to establish if Mr Mitchell-Highway is being questioned as a suspect.”

“A suspect of what, Mr Hargreaves?” Terri turned her cold eyes on Ollie. “Have we said anything untoward happened to this person?”

“Don’t play games DCI Wilcox,” snapped Ollie. “He’s on a mortuary table and YOU have his picture.” Terri stared at Ollie for a second then turned pointedly away from him and towards Callum.

“It’s Noah Belasis,” said Callum quietly. “What happened to him?” Terri ignored his question.

“What was the nature of your relationship with Mr Belasis?” she asked.

“He hired my company to find his parents. Then he turned up at the office, which is in our home, asking for an update. He seemed lost and lonely and we befriended him. He had nowhere to live but found a flat near to us, then there was asbestos in the flat, so he stayed with us. But he wasn’t looking for his parents and there was no asbestos. They were lies to get close to me. He had just broken up with someone that I had a long-term relationship with some years ago. Simon Hastings. He thought I was responsible for their breakup.”

“Were you?” asked Terri.

“What? No!” Callum was confused. “I hadn’t seen Simon since we broke up, nearish three years ago.”

“Words Mr Mitchell-Highway. Many relationships are conducted without seeing each other. Had you been in contact with Mr Hastings in any way?”

“No!” exclaimed Callum. “It was in Noah’s head. I made a statement about all of this when we reported him for harassment and assault on our daughter at the end of January.”

Ollie knew that the nature of Callum’s relationship with Noah was a valid line of enquiry if Noah’s was a suspicious death but this interview had an accusatory edge to it and felt more like an interrogation.

“DCI Wilcox,” he said, instantly annoyed when she didn’t bother to look at him. “Are you treating the death of Noah Belasis as suspicious? If you are, is my client a suspect?” Terri continued to ignore him.

“Mr Mitchell Highway, please confirm the date you met Noah Belasis and the date he moved into your house.” Ollie put a hand on Callum’s arm to silence him.

“Are you treating the death of Noah Belasis as suspicious? If you are, is my client a suspect?” he repeated.

Terri was clearly battling with something. Joe knew her of old and could see she wanted to arrest Callum, but she was no fool and was aware that she hadn’t prepared the case yet. Ollie was aware of it as well.

“Okay, Callum, we’re going to have a chat.” He turned to Terri. “My client will co-operate and answer your questions but he and I need to consult first. The same goes for Ben Mitchell-Highway, also my client.”

When DCI Wilcox and DS Munday had left, Callum turned to Ollie.

“Was he murdered?” Callum was patently in shock.

“That would be my guess,” said Ollie. “That looked like a mortuary picture and why would the police have it if the death wasn’t suspicious? Or maybe it was an accident but because of the incident in January they want to do some checks. But that DCI, she usually does murders.”

“I had nothing to do with it. Neither did Ben,” asserted Callum.

“I know that but if he was murdered, they will look into his life, which will mean asking YOU questions. I know I made it sound like they should tell you if they suspect you but, the truth is, they don’t have to unless they’re arresting you. Not telling you is a way often used to get you to say more than you would than if you knew what it was actually about.”

“I just need to tell the truth, yeah?” checked Callum. Ollie nodded.

“One theory they might run with is that you paid someone to do it,” he suggested. “They can look at phone records, financial records?”

“Yeah,” agreed Callum. “You think that’s okay to allow?”

“I do,” confirmed Ollie. “They’d be able to get a warrant anyway. Co-operate fully, you’ve got nothing to hide.” He laughed wryly. “So often, with our firm’s clients, I’m giving the opposite advice. It’s nice to be working for someone straight. Okay, I’ll be back for your interview. I’m going to check in on Ben.”

+++

Terri Wilcox’s team sat around the situation room.

“Why would they lawyer up if they weren’t guilty?” DI Linda Bird’s question rang out and for a minute, nobody answered.

“Because people make assumptions about them based on their backgrounds.” Joe couldn’t help himself and the words came out before he had properly thought them through. Terri turned around slowly until it was explicitly clear that her attention was focused solely on him. Everybody else’s fear was tangible but Joe was suddenly sick of all the macho bullshit from this unpleasant woman and he met her glare with a fearless stare of his own.

“What’s that Munday? Are you feeling some sympathy for our poor damaged little gay boys? They’re a bit of you, are they?” Her snipe cracked its way through the brittle silence.

“You’re suggesting my sympathy for them is because they’re gay and I’m gay, guv?” He heard the soft gasps and saw heads snap towards him out of the corner of his eye. Call themselves fucking detectives, he thought angrily, they couldn’t see what was right underneath their noses. Well now they knew.

“You tell me.” Terri looked almost interested.

“Do you have sympathy for straight people just because they’re straight? That would be similar, right? … guv.” Nobody EVER confronted DCI Terri Wilcox. What did he think he was doing? Her eyes narrowed to aggressive slits and he thought she might just rip his balls off.

“Your funeral Munday,” she said, a dangerous edge to her voice. “But, come on, let’s have you, hammer those nails in your coffin. Why am I wrong?”

“You might not be wrong guv but we should be proving that they were behind the hit and … you saw Callum’s face today. He did not know Noah was dead.” Terri continued to stare at him, eyebrows slightly raised. It was a non-verbal ‘And?’ so he carried on. “We should be checking their story about Noah. I hear what you say about Noah not having a voice but we should be talking to his friends, colleagues, find out what his story was. We should be checking the Mitchell-Highways finances, phone records. Maybe you’re right guv and they’re clever enough to cover their tracks but we have to PROVE they did it.”

Terri sharpened her focus on Joe, blurring out the rest of her team. Fucking pointless idiots, she thought. But Joe Munday had promise and now she knew he had steel. Good.

“Right, Bird, Munday. You’re in the interviews. I’ll be observing. Munday to lead.” She turned on her heel and stalked away.

+++

“Someone killed him?” Ben asked.

“It was a mortuary picture so it looks that way,” replied Ollie. “The DCI, she usually does murders.”

“Someone murdered him?” questioned Ben. It made sense, thought Ollie, there was a world of difference for Ben between killing someone and murdering them.

“It would be my guess. Suicide maybe? He had mental health problems.”

“Suicide?” Ben looked dismayed. “All I know is, it was nothing to do with me and Callum. We just need to tell the truth, they’ll be able to check it all.”

“They might go with a theory that you paid someone. Serious question, Ben, and I’m sorry to ask it. Have you ever paid for a hit? For your dad?” Ben’s face said everything. He was truly appalled.

“No! Why would you think that?”

Ben could not believe that Ollie would think this of him. Ollie KNEW him.

Ollie saw Ben’s distress and was devastated that he’d misjudged this question. He knew Phil had been behind several ‘disappearances’ and all he’d wanted to do was check that Ben couldn’t be linked to these.

“I’m sorry Ben. I think I work with too many scumbags.”

“But I’m not a scumbag,” whispered Ben. Ollie had never seen him look so crushed and hurt.

“Oh fuck Ben. No you’re not. Of course you’re not. I’m so sorry.” Ollie knew the damage had been done though. “I just wanted to make sure you couldn’t be associated with anything your dad has done.”

“My dad organised hits? You know this?” Ben’s shocked face revealed the extent of his ignorance. Oh god, thought Ollie, this is going from bad to worse. He’d always assumed Ben had full knowledge of his dad’s criminal business but it now seemed that wasn’t the case. “I was never a very good criminal,” said Ben sadly. “He barely trusted me to shift a stolen motor.”

“I’m sorry, really truly sorry,” pleaded Ollie. “It was a clumsy question and I know you, I know that isn’t you.”

“No, Ols. It’s just how it is. I’m Phil Mitchell’s boy. Can’t never get away from that.” His face had fallen and he looked defeated. “So what happens now?”

“They’re going to interview Callum, then you. I’ll be in with both of you.”

“So I just have to tell the truth and hope that they see who I really am and not who they think I am. Gotta be honest, Ols. I’m not likin’ my chances.”

+++

Ollie was interested and more than a little relieved to see the change of personnel. DS Joe Munday conducted a rigorous interview collecting lots of information that his team could go away and verify. Callum relaxed with him and was open and honest. He felt it had gone well.

Ben was subdued during his interview. He answered every question asked but did not expand and add details like Callum had. Joe sensed a bit of tension between Ollie and Ben and wondered what had gone on.

“So your immediate reaction when you knew Noah had drugged your dog was to punch him,” stated Joe. “What was your immediate response when you learned Noah had drugged your daughter?” Ben thought back to the scene.

“Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. You’d think I’d scale up. But I froze. Callum froze. It was shocking. And I turned to him, Callum, and said it was time to call the police. Up to that point we’d wanted to give Noah a chance. He was obviously messed up, mentally unhinged. But drugging Lex was a step over the line.” It was exactly Callum’s description of events and Joe caught Ollie’s eye. Ollie was impressed. This police officer was interviewing exceptionally well but was also constructing useful points for Ben to corroborate Callum’s account.

“Okay, Mr Mitchell-Highway, our next step will be collecting personal records from you which will inform our investigation. Thank you for co-operating with us today.”

Ben fixed Joe with a determined look.

“I am not my dad. And I am not the mistakes I made as a kid.”

Joe nodded.

+++

Ben liked to go to bed early partly because he functioned better when he had a full eight hours of sleep and partly because he loved the quiet conversations with Callum across the pillows, the gentle intimacy of stroking each other’s face and body, the warmth of being physically close. It was a time when he could tell Callum about his worries and Callum would comfort him. Tonight he was feeling bruised and confused. He had no doubt that Ollie thought he was a good person but that didn’t mean Ollie didn’t also think that his bad past was a part of him. He put this to Callum.

“He’s a lawyer, Ben. He has to cover off the worst possibilities.”

“Yeah I guess. I bet he didn’t ask you about your arrests.”

“He didn’t ask you about yours. He made an assumption about how much you were involved in your dad’s stuff. Don’t forget he didn’t know you at that time.”

Ben was feeling lonely. He always felt lonely when Callum didn’t understand him. It was the flip side of the great love. Most of the time he felt completely understood by Callum and it was the most wonderful thing to know that somebody knew you right through to the bones of you and still chose to love you. Then the understanding went missing for even a short time and it was overwhelmingly upsetting (the love was constant thankfully or he’d be in a complete mess). It didn’t matter who else understood him, if Callum didn’t it was all that mattered. He turned over to face the edge of the bed feeling a bit lost.

“Ollie suggested suicide. He was in a proper state, Noah. Do you think …?” It had been consuming Ben’s thoughts all evening: Noah’s despair if he killed himself; Noah’s despair if somebody killed him. It was frightening. Could he have gone down a path like Noah? There had been several points when Ben had been in a dark place. And if that had been him, and it so easily could have been him, would there have been anybody there? Because what was abundantly clear to Ben was that Noah had died alone. It was a terrible thought and Ben dissolved in tears.

“Ben, hey.” Callum’s long arms pulled Ben back towards him, holding his sobbing body close.

“He died alone, babe,” wept Ben. “He was a mess. He’d fucked up but … “ Callum gently turned him over and held him even closer, cradling the back of his head with a large hand and letting his own tears fall onto Ben’s hair. It had been an emotional day. Ben clung on to him and eventually drifted off to sleep. They were in bed too early for Callum to sleep but he didn’t mind; he loved to lie in bed with Ben asleep. Ben wore a tough, wary look on his face most of the time he was awake but in sleep his face softened and he looked young and free. Callum liked to see this side of him and often wondered if he could make life safe enough for Ben to wear this face when he was awake. Around the children his face was often more gentle and more playful and there were the looks that were just for Callum, almost shy, definitely vulnerable, taking that risk that he could trust him. But everyday Ben for everybody else was a lot more guarded.

And then it came to Callum, what Ben lived with, the assumptions people made about him because he had worked for his dad, how those assumptions were a barrier to him being who he wanted to be. Ollie making those assumptions would have hurt Ben deeply. It was why he had to be constantly on his guard. But Callum knew him. Ben was the joyous young boy who had lived his early years with a loving mother who encouraged him to dance and sing and paint; he was Billy Elliott; he was the man who found beaches to visit with his husband so that he could declare his love openly and honestly in perfect and memorable settings; he was a dedicated dad who was completely focused on ensuring his children grew up with safety, love and fun; he was the grown man dancing to his daughter’s favourite pop song to help his friend get a date; he was warm, loving, soft-hearted. Gently removing his arms from around his beloved husband, making sure he didn’t wake, Callum grabbed a pen and notepad from his bedside drawer and wrote down what he had just been thinking.

“What’re you doing, babe?” came a sleepy voice behind him. “You writing something?”

“Yeah,” said Callum softly, looking at Ben to see how awake he was. “It’s about you. Wanna read it?”

“Good me or bad me?” asked Ben, pulling himself up to sitting.

“Just you. The real you.” Callum handed over his sheet as Ben pulled on his glasses. He read quietly, his face getting more crumpled with each line until he was sobbing again.

“Ben, it was supposed to make you see who you are, how amazin’ you are just as you are. Not make you cry.”

“’S only you who sees me like this.”

“Is there a single word there that’s not true?” challenged Callum. Ben looked down at the sheet and reread. Callum was right. This was him. He smiled shyly at Callum – the smile that only Callum saw. Callum’s face erupted into the biggest smile – it was his special gift – and Ben laughed, widening his own grin. Folding the sheet reverently, he handed it back to Callum.

“Can it go in the box?” He was referring to a box of similar bits of paper where Callum had written down every love declaration they had ever made to each other. Callum retrieved the box from under the bed and stowed this latest offering.

“I wish I had a name for you that nobody else calls you,” he mentioned casually, although this was something to which he had given a great deal of thought. “You call Roman ‘bubba’ and Tyler ‘tigger’ and Lexi ‘sweetheart’ and “princess” and I can use those names as well but they’re just for us. They call us ‘dad’ and nobody else can call us that so it’s special. You call me ‘babe’. Nobody else has ever called me that. I want a name for you that nobody else calls you.”

“Me calling you babe isn’t exactly original. You can call me babe as well. I’d like that,” prompted Ben. “Mum calls me love, but she calls everyone love. You call everyone darlin’. Babe. I am your babe, yeah?”

“Yeah,” agreed Callum.

“You gonna whisper it in my ear then?” suggested Ben. Callum didn’t need any encouragement and quickly straddled Ben, leaning down to litter kisses along his jaw and murmur his sweet nothings.

+++

There were two things Ollie HAD to do. Firstly, apologise to Ben, and, secondly, have that date with Tom. They had been texting back and forth, nonsense chit-chat but somehow revealing and Ollie was feeling that he’d already divulged quite a lot about himself. The date was tonight.

Arriving at Callum’s and Ben’s house on the morning after the police interviews, he was nervous. He hadn’t texted ahead and had chosen nine thirty thinking that they would be back from the school run but he hadn’t considered they may not be here. The door bell sounded and, after waiting a minute, he was about to leave when he saw somebody approaching the door to open it. It was Ben.

“Sorry Ollie, I was just sending some files to Callum. He’s out on a lolo.”

“Lolo?”

“Lost loved one,” explained Ben. “Come in. Got time for a coffee?”

Ollie followed Ben to the back of the house and, sitting at the counter as Ben made coffee, his phone buzzed with a text alert. It was the kiss emoji, Tom of course. It had become his thing.

 _Morning. Having coffee with Ben x_ he texted back.

“Tom?” guessed Ben. Ollie nodded, hoping he was pulling off dignified when in reality his insides were mush at the thought of his new man.

“Yeah, first date night tonight. We’re going to a bar in Camden to listen to some live music. I’m not sure how we’re going to hear each other speak.”

“You’re not there for the music – it’s just a nice background. You’ll hear him ‘cause you’re gonna get up VERY close,” leered Ben, then dropped his saucy act as he saw Ollie’s worried face. “You’re nervous!”

“I am,” admitted Ollie. “He’s so easygoing, so open and confident. We’ve been texting and, whilst it’s not obviously flirting it … is. And he’s not nervous at all.”

“Can I see?” asked Ben, holding his hand out for the phone.

“No!” Ollie’s horrified refusal turned to laughs as Ben mimicked him and then grinned.

“You’re worried he’ll think you’re a stuffed shirt?” quizzed Ben.

“No!” denied Ollie. “Why would you say that?” He was definitely worried that Tom would think he was a stuffed shirt.

“Come on, Ols. You haven’t been on a date since Johnny and you split EIGHT months ago and you were with Johnny for three years. You’re out of practice. Did you date much before Johnny? Hook ups?”

Ollie sunk his head on his arms, convinced the evening was going to be a disaster.

“A few dates. Nothing that lasted more than a few weeks. Hook ups aren’t my thing. You’re right, he’s going to think I’m dull.”

“I’m right? I never said that.” Ben placed the coffee in front of Ollie. “Just be you. If he’s got any sense, he’ll fall for you.” Ollie sipped his coffee and nodded, clearly unconvinced. He was very anxious about sex. Johnny had obviously found sex with Ollie boring otherwise why had he looked elsewhere. And why had the one night of sex with George been the best sex of his life? Ollie’s confidence had taken a battering.

“Anyway, I didn’t come to talk about my love life,” he said, changing the subject. “I feel terrible about our conversation about organised hits. If you were somebody I didn’t know, it would be remiss to not ask those questions. But I DO know you, Ben, and I was out of order. I must have made you feel terrible as well. I would never want to do that. I love you, you’re my brother.”

“I know you do,” smiled Ben. “But thanks for coming round to say it. An’ I love you too.”

+++

Motoring through the countryside in his much loved almost classic Porsche (“not classic for another two years” Callum had said, gloating that his little MG roadster was a classic car), Ben was approaching happy. The sun had turned out for him and the tiny leaf buds on the still bare trees sparkled gold in the light. _Nature’s first green is gold._ Ben didn’t know any poetry but the line came to him from his high school English and he knew it was from a famous poem somewhere. Maybe he should add poetry to his reading, he wondered.

He had read Callum’s _Ben is …_ piece several times now. Callum would probably be surprised with how often. He could scarcely believe that somebody had written it about him. _Is there a single word there that’s not true?_ Callum had said. It was all true, actually, really, genuinely true. The happiness saboteur in him was lurking, suggesting that other things were true as well, but he concentrated on the golden leaf buds, the sunbeams and the perfect growl of his car.

They hadn’t heard anything in the last week from the police which he felt was a good thing. Amanda had let them know that Noah’s death was looking like a professional hit and definitely not suicide, which had relieved him; the thought of Noah taking his own life had been bothering him greatly. The police would not find any evidence that he and Callum had arranged a hit because they hadn’t, so he was feeling a tad more confident.

Today was about visiting Phil and Ben had questions.

As he sat at the table in the visiting room, he wondered how to explain the story of Noah to Phil, a story that was going to make both him and Callum look very foolish. How had they got so involved in Noah’s life so quickly? When he’d started the ball rolling by hiring MHI, he was still with Simon and maybe at that time he’d simply wanted to find out more about Callum, then Simon leaving him provoked him into his reckless course of action. When he turned up at their office, they took him into their home, let him have a nap in their house (What? Why?), invited him that same day for a drink with friends, then three days later invited him to stay at their house. None of it made any sense to Ben and he had done just about all of the inviting. But thinking back carefully, he began to see how Noah had engineered all of those invitations. He had been seemingly exhausted after meeting Ben and Callum that morning in January, so much so that he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Really? thought Ben, wondering how he and Callum had fallen for such a ridiculous story. They had been played expertly. He supposed Noah would have had a plan B if his manipulation hadn’t worked – he couldn’t have known how generous they were – but they had done exactly as he had hoped at every stage. Noah hadn’t planned ahead too far; he got to know them to find a vulnerable point to exploit. It had only been three weeks of their life but it had turned it upside down.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” Arriving quietly in his soft shoes, Phil interrupted Ben’s musings. He jumped up to give his dad a quick hug before they settled back down in their seats.

“Somebody died, dad.” It wasn’t how Ben had planned to open the conversation but it was what came out of his mouth. “Do you remember me talking about Noah in January, somebody we met who was staying with us? The guy who organised Lexi’s adoption party?” Phil nodded and Ben took that as a signal to carry on. “Well I didn’t tell you the whole story.”

Ben recounted the whole sorry affair, endeavouring to give a full, unedited account.

“You two are a soft touch,” growled Phil softly. “My old dad used to say ‘kindness is a weakness’, which it is, but he didn’t get that it’s a power as well. You need to use it powerfully.”

“They think his death was a professional hit, dad. His ankles and wrists were bound. A block was attached to his feet and he was pushed in the river. Alive when pushed, so drowned.”

“How was he grabbed?” asked Phil.

“Off the street. Transported in a car boot. Mouth taped.” Ben watched as Phil thought for a few minutes.

“Sounds old school, Aidan’s type of thing,” he said at last.

“Or yours dad?” It was a brave question and Ben’s heart was in his mouth. Fight flashed across Phil’s face briefly before weariness set in.

“Yeah, but keep yer voice down or I’ll get another stretch. I only ever done for villains, nobody straight. I never involved you in none of it. You’re too soft for starters but … well it’s a good thing you’re that way. You can ‘ave an ‘onest life. I’ve ‘ad a lot of time to think in ‘ere and I reckon I probably always wanted that for you.”

Ben reached across for Phil’s hands and Phil leaned forward to offer them.

“I think I would’ve liked to be a geezer,” said Ben quietly, “into girls and football and boxin’, tough so I could’ve helped you deal with those villains, somebody you would’ve been proud to have stand by your side.”

“It’s not who you are,” said Phil, holding Ben’s eyes. “It’s never been who you are. But you ARE tough, to have got through everything you have got through, you must be. And I AM proud.” Ben’s heart stopped. He had never heard those words, or any like them, coming from his dad. It was like the wait of a lifetime had come to an end but the first thing that popped into his head was: am I proud of you, dad? He wasn’t; he wanted to be but he wasn’t.

“You think it’s okay to murder villains, dad?” Ben was leaning forward in his chair but Phil leaned back away from him, released his hands and hardened his eyes. Did Ben think he had organised the hit on this Noah fella? he wondered.

“It’s what ‘appens in that world, Ben. But if you’re asking what I think now, then, no, it’s not okay. You think I did for Noah?”

“No! God, no!” Ben was shocked at the suggestion and Phil relaxed as he saw the sincerity. “We just don’t know who might’ve and we’re worried ‘cause we know they think me and Callum organised the hit.”

“That Kings fella, he would’ve tapped him. Jusufis would’ve slit his throat,” said Phil knowledgably. “This doesn’t feel like any of the current players. Could be a one off. Jealous boyfriend, husband. Do you want me to do some diggin’?”

“I don’t want you to jeopardise early release, dad. That comes first.” Phil nodded his agreement.

“Okay, so tell me about Callum and the children,” said Phil, settling back in his seat for a happier conversation.

+++

Meg was miserable. She had moved home and hated the new house. Chosen for its anonymity, it was an end of terrace with an attached garage, a large family living next door completely absorbed in their own lives, and wasteland opposite. But it was old and dirty and no amount of cleaning seemed to be able to permeate the dingy smell; she wasn’t sure how much longer she could cope with it. It was playing havoc with her asthma and she frequently woke in the night unable to breathe and frightened.

She had set up what she needed to work but the broadband provider was messing her around so she was struggling to work which was hugely frustrating. As her work was exclusively for Jackie Highway, this was a big problem and she fully expected a knock on her door at any minute. It was why she had moved; they shouldn’t be able to find her here but she was permanently on edge and scared.

The safety of MHI sat out of reach and she missed it more than she could stand: the work, the people, having somewhere to go - she hadn’t left this house in weeks. She thought of Frankie with Marcus and her mum to be bothered about her; sometimes it was unbearably tiring to always have to look after yourself. Callum and Ben were bothered about Frankie as well. They were all bothered about each other and Meg was desperately sad that she had given up the chance of this. Having eaten nothing other than apples for five days, she was feeling ill and she wished there was someone to take care of her. Something was wrong with her and she knew she needed some help.

There were regular texts from Callum and Frankie but Meg had not answered any of them. Sitting here this morning, in her toxic house, feeling distinctly unwell, she thought maybe it was time to reach out. There was no one else; the only people she knew were the MHI team. They would help her, she knew they would, but was it risky to let them?

She sat for several hours unable to decide on the best course of action so when a text came in from Frankie, it was as if a tsunami of relief washed over her. She decided that, whatever it said, she would respond.

Frankie: _Hey Meg, fancy helping Ben and me? We’re meeting at 1:30_

Meg: _Yes. I’ll be there._

After quickly showering and dressing, she drove round to Callum’s and Ben’s house. When she arrived, she had a surge of sadness that she no longer had her own key. It had felt right working for MHI and she was beginning to realise that working for Jackie felt very wrong. She wasn’t sleeping, she couldn’t face eating and she almost never went outside. Tentatively ringing the doorbell, she fought the urge to flee and leaned on the wall as she was feeling faint. After a few seconds, Ben opened the door … and caught her as she fell.

When Meg came round, she was laid on the big sofa and Frankie and Ben were perched on the coffee table next to her.

“Hey,” said Frankie, jumping up and helping Meg to sit as Ben passed her a glass of water.

“Meg, you’re thinner and paler than usual.” Ben was concerned. Meg was always pale and thin; now she looked positively ill. As she looked up at him through frightened, dark rimmed eyes, he could see something was very wrong. “Would you like some toast?” he offered. She shook her head. “Meg?” He held out his hand, which she took, and led her down to the room off the kitchen. Frankie went to the kitchen to make toast and Ben sat down with Meg, hoping she would spot a picture of their team. Meg would remember it being taken as they had posed for it but she wouldn’t remember the one next to it which was a candid shot of her and Ben with them working together at the computer station, obviously finding something useful as they looked at each other with the excitement of success. It was a photo of connection and belonging. Meg saw the photos but, where Ben had been hoping they might have a positive effect, for her they underlined her feeling of loss.

“I liked working for you,” she admitted sadly, “but I’m doing something else now.”

“Meg, tell us to piss off if you want,” said Ben, choosing a direct approach, “but you don’t look healthy and you certainly don’t look happy. We want to help.” For the first time in days, Meg felt like she could breathe properly. Somebody was bothered about her and the chances were that they would help her get back on her feet.

“Thank you,” she said, “but I’m fine.”

“You are NOT fine, Meg,” stated Ben. “You need to take better care of yourself OR you need to let us do it, at least for a while.” Frankie had come back in with tea and toast and shoved it in front of Meg.

“What was the last thing you ate?” she quizzed.

“An apple,” replied Meg.

“When?” Frankie continued with her interrogation.

“Yesterday.”

“What was the last thing you ate before the apple?” Frankie was relentless and Meg could see she wasn’t going to let it go.

“Just apples. Five days.” She stood up hurriedly, intending to leave as the price for help seemed to be a lot of interference but Ben stood up as well, causing her to pause.

“Meg, we want to help you. Please let us help you,” he pleaded. She almost never cried but everything felt like it was all too much and the tears fell of their own accord. Ben held his arms open, inviting her for a hug and she remembered the cuddle from Callum and how it had felt, and decided this was worth a try. Ben wrapped his arms around her, a little shocked at how thin she felt, and Meg wept for a solid five minutes.

“Listen,” Ben said as her sobs subsided. “My sister and niece have just moved into their new house so our spare room is free. It’s big, plenty of space to live in. Stay with us for a couple of days, a week, as long as you need. Please. Let us help you.” Meg sat back down on the chair and Frankie pressed the tea and toast on her and was relieved to see her start to eat and drink.

“It’s a good idea Meg. Stay here,” she urged. “Callum and Ben will look after you.” Meg had lived alone for over six years and the thought of living with a family was terrifying. Reading her mind, Ben tried to allay her fears.

“Our kids are good. We’ll tell them you’re poorly and you need peace and quiet. They know you. You know them. I know you prefer to live by yourself but you’re not well, Meg. Let us help.”

Ben and Frankie watched as a caravan of emotions trekked across Meg’s face. Tiredness led, followed by irritation, frustration, relief and, finally, suspicion.

“Did you get me here ‘cause you knew I wasn’t fine? How did you know?” she asked fiercely.

“No, we’ve got some other stuff we thought you could help with,” explained Ben. “I wasn’t expecting to see you this bad, Frankie neither.”

“I’m not that bad,” muttered Meg, becoming even paler. Ben saw the signs and thrust the waste paper basket in front of her just in time. He held the basket for her as she spewed, rubbing her back because that’s what he liked when he was being sick. She was moaning quietly and then abruptly lay back and her eyes rolled upwards. Ben froze for a second then grabbed his phone and called for an ambulance.

Frankie travelled to the hospital in the ambulance with Meg and Ben drove his car. It was not far from where they lived, so within half an hour they were sitting in an A&E bay arguing about Meg’s existence with a nurse.

“Where is she registered with a GP?”

“She isn’t.”

“Home address?” Ben and Frankie knew that Meg had left her flat but didn’t know her new address.

“She’s in between addresses. Staying with me at the moment,” said Ben giving his address.

“Next of kin?”

“None. I will act for her if she wants … and my husband, Callum Mitchell-Highway, he will as well.” With perfect timing, Meg stirred. Frankie was immediately by her side.

“Meg, we’re at the hospital.” Meg gripped Frankie’s hand. “They want to know who your next of kin is.” Meg shook her head, her face broken with distress.

“You can choose, Meg.” Ben appeared on her other side. “Or you can choose not to have one. But if anything happens to you, we – me, Callum, Frankie, Marcus, Charlie - we would like to know.” Meg looked at the nurse with his pen poised over his folder.

“Ben Mitchell-Highway. Callum Mitchell-Highway,” she croaked.

“Thank you Meg. Mr Mitchell-Highway says you are staying with him?” Meg nodded. Frankie squeezed her hand and stroked her cheek and Meg looked at her, her relief palpable. She signed _Thank you_ and Frankie signed _Here for you_.

They were interrupted by the doctor and another nurse who shooed them all away. The first nurse took them down to a family room and they sat down.

“Is she known to the police?” It wasn’t a question on the form but this nurse had seen it all.

“Yeah,” said Ben, relieved somebody official could confirm Megan’s existence. “You should call DI Amanda Peacock at the Regional Organised Crime Unit. This is her number.” He held his phone for the nurse to copy.

“And what else do we need to know about her?”

“She’s autistic so don’t be ambiguous or use nuanced language, she’s a fluent signer so you could use that, be aware of noise levels, flashing lights, that sort of thing, she sees and hears everything probably much more than you, she likes detailed explanations and doesn’t like surprises,” said Ben, panicking at the idea of leaving Meg alone. “Be kind. Please be kind to her.”

“Can we stay with her?” asked Frankie, also uneasy about leaving Meg.

“Yes,” said the nurse, “unless we admit her, then you’re on normal visiting times.” He led them back out into the corridor and was almost bowled over by Callum striding along in a state of agitation. Ben grabbed hold of him.

“My husband Callum,” he said, introducing Callum to the nurse. Callum hated hospitals and was already very worked up, breathing too fast and eyes flitting all over the place. “She’s okay babe,” reassured Ben. “She’s just seen the doctor so we’re going back to see what’s what.”

Meg was sitting up in the bed as they got back to the bay, big eyes wide with fear that relaxed considerably when she saw Ben, Callum and Frankie. The nurse noted this and was finally convinced that Meg was safe with these three.

“I’ll be back shortly,” he said and left them.

“What did the doctor say?” asked Frankie. Meg pointed at the monitor with one hand.

“Low everything,” she said, her voice flat and dispirited. Then lifting the other hand with a cannula inserted and attached to a drip, she added, “Dehydrated. And I’m only forty-one kilos.”

“How far off okay is that?” asked Ben.

“I’m fifty one kilos,” said Frankie. Frankie was a similar height to Meg and very thin.

“Yeah, fifty-one kilos would be better,” agreed Meg. “They’re going to admit me. But I don’t want to stay here. Please.”

“Meg darlin’,” soothed Callum. “At least one of us will be here for every minute of visiting time. And as soon as they say you can come home, we’ll come and get you. And you can call us at any time and we will answer. But you need health care right now. Please choose to stay.”

Meg looked at her friends and was grateful that she wasn’t by herself. She’d thought that Ben wasn’t interested in her but today had been different. He’d acted like a friend and it seemed genuine to her. She thought of the photo of the two of them. It was the only candid photograph of herself that she’d ever seen and she’d been surprised to see herself looking relaxed and happy. Whenever she looked at herself in a mirror, she had a serious face. Sometimes a sad face. She hadn’t been aware that she could look any different.

“Can you send me copies of those photographs?” she asked, looking from Ben to Frankie.

“Yeah,” smiled Frankie, whipping out her phone and opening up her digital photo files. “Which ones do you want?” She sat on the edge of the bed and spent a couple of minutes selecting photos with Meg. Meg was surprised that Frankie had so many of her, including one that she really liked of her eating pizza with Roman and Tyler and another of her and Frankie.

“I took that one,” remarked Ben looking over Frankie’s shoulder. “Good innit?”

With a pang of guilt, Frankie realised that she hadn’t consolidated her friendship with Meg. They needed to do more things together, share experiences and life. Meg had never even been to the Arts Centre and Frankie was sure it was a place she would like so resolved to invite her along when she was better. There were some unanswered questions about Jackie that she and Ben had been intending to explore with Meg today but they would get to those soon enough. Frankie felt certain that Meg was a good person and suspected she might be in trouble.

There were few people who had had as difficult a childhood as Ben. One was Callum. Another was Meg and that alone put Ben firmly on her side. He had no doubt that Meg had got herself in too deep with Jackie but until they knew what was involved, it was impossible to think of how to help her. She had lied to them and that was an issue but not an insurmountable one. As soon as she was better, they would get to the bottom of it all. Together.

Callum had been profoundly shocked to see the state of Meg. She looked like a victim of war, malnourished and hopeless. If his mum was responsible for this … He visited his mum monthly and recently had been getting a clear impression that she was very pleased with herself but had assumed that was related to her being queen of her yard. He was aware of the looks they were given by the other inmates when they were in the visiting room: frightened, wary looks at her, curious looks at him. If she was in any way responsible for the state Meg was in, there would be hell to pay, he decided.

+++

Later on the ward, Meg looked through her new photo collection. These were the only people in her life she cared about and who cared about her. Could they help her extricate herself from Jackie’s operation? Or would they never want to know her again if they found out what she’d done? It was all set up now so maybe Jackie didn’t really need her. Maybe she would let her go. Could she ask Jackie to let her go? How much danger was she in?

The questions were endlessly streaming through her head and she didn’t realise that, yet again, she hadn’t eaten.

+++

As she was in hospital, Meg had had to send Frankie round to her new place to pick up some things. She wanted her own clothes and she wanted her tablet. The nurses were kind and were clearly trying to make her feel comfortable and safe but wearing a hospital gown, sitting in a hospital bed, on a hospital ward was making her feel institutionalised and her internal alarms were ringing loudly.

Ben and his mum had visited that morning to discuss home arrangements with Meg and her care team. Meg had been annoyed at first that Ben and Callum thought she needed a mother figure but she quickly understood that Kathy was there to show that they had enough support for their children. It had been a good idea, she conceded, and when Ben and Kathy had stayed for a while afterwards, she decided she liked Kathy. She could see the connection between Kathy and Ben and instinctively knew that she would be a stronger person if she had relationships like this.

She was looking forward to Frankie’s visit most of all as Frankie always found something to laugh about and Meg couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed. Frankie was also looking forward to the visit. She loved talking to Meg, particularly as their conversations were completely signed.

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” Meg asked when Frankie arrived for visiting time, referring to her house.

“Yes,” confirmed Frankie with her customary honesty. “You can’t live there. There’s rising damp, mould behind the wardrobe …”

“Why did you look behind the wardrobe?”

“To find the mould. I could smell it. I’ve packed up all of your things, Marcus helped, and they’re at Ben’s and Callum’s. What? Don’t pull your face like that. I’m not intruding on your privacy. You would have had mouldy clothes.”

Meg was feeling very uncomfortable at this loss of control and Frankie saw it.

“I’m sorry,” she signed contritely. “I should have asked you. Do you want me to put everything back?”

“No. What would be the point of that? I would have mouldy clothes. The damp would probably ruin my tech as well. You have packed that up?” Meg could have screamed with frustration but tried hard to be rational.

“I know what I’m doing Meg. I packed it properly,” reassured Frankie. Meg nodded, giving up. She was happy to have her own clothes to wear and ecstatic to have her tablet so things were improving. They pulled the curtain round so that she could change.

“Is Callum coming? Our meeting with the doctor is at four.” Meg was anxious and Frankie held her hand for comfort.

“He’s picking up Ro and Ty from school then he’s coming,” explained Frankie. She grinned at Meg. “So tell me about the hot nurse who’s making eyes at you.” They spent the rest of the time discussing the attractive nurse and what might constitute a bit of fun flirting. His attention had gone right over Meg’s head so Frankie gave her schooling in the giveaway signs. They giggled like school girls and Meg could feel her anxiety receding. As visiting time came to a close, Callum arrived and Frankie said her goodbyes, looking back at Meg as she passed the nurse and winking cheekily.

“You look amazin’ Meg darlin’,” he said, dropping a kiss on her forehead. Meg quite liked that she was now Megdarlin. “So, what are we hopin’ for today?” We, thought Meg, comforted.

“I want to be discharged. I have been eating and keeping it down. And I’ve been to a counselling session. But if they give me an eating plan and you say you’ll help me stick to it, I can come to counselling as an outpatient, so I can be discharged.” She had thought this through and was convinced she would be leaving the hospital today. Callum was a little more circumspect.

“Makes complete sense. Need to find out if the doctor has anything to add.”

The much talked about nurse came to collect Meg and Callum for their meeting with the doctor, showing them into a consultation room.

“He likes you,” observed Callum as the nurse left and they waited for the doctor.

“Frankie thought that as well. How could you tell?” Meg was amazed that she was missing something that seemed so obvious to everybody else. Callum continued her education in giveaway signs until the doctor came in.

The doctor found Meg intriguing. To start with, she had one of the smallest social networks she had ever come across. The team were happy with the home arrangements but she wanted to confirm the details for herself before she agreed to the discharge. Meg was clearly desperate to leave and she was inclined to think that her mental health would be better supported at home. The fact that Meg was homeless and was going to her friends’ house was the sticking point. These friends were young like Meg and she was concerned that if Meg decided to leave, they would let her. She explained all of this to Callum and Meg.

“This is my choice,” stated Meg determinedly. “I’m going to stay at Ben’s and Callum’s. I know their children so I will be fine. I’m not going to leave until I’m ready.”

“That’s sounds grand,” agreed the doctor. “How will you know you’re ready to leave?” She could see Meg’s confusion and tried to be clearer. “It’s more than reaching a goal weight, or attending a certain amount of counselling. How will you know you’re well?”

“I’ll know because I’ll be like I was before,” said Meg. The doctor smiled at her knowing from experience that this was not a comparison it was easy to be sure about.

“We’re going to follow your advice,” said Callum calmly. “But if Meg wants to leave, we’re not holding her prisoner. Neither are we going to just stand by and let her leave if she’s not fully well. We’ll always look out for her. I think it’s about the same as if this was one of our children. Well not at the age they are now obviously but if they were Meg’s age.” Like everybody else who entered his orbit, the doctor was charmed by Callum. Her team had been taken with Ben’s determined and organised approach earlier in the day. They had gone about it differently but Ben and Callum had both demonstrated that Meg’s care was a priority for them.

“Okay Meg, you can go home,” she said. Meg was jubilant.

It seemed to take forever to get everything signed and book outpatient appointments so it was two hours later that Meg and Callum arrived home. Ben opened the front door and stood with his arms open. Meg knew the routine now. She could cross her arms and he would cross his and the threat of a hug would be over or she could accept the hug. She was having this one.

+++

It was a couple of weeks later and Meg was doing much better. She’d settled into the house better than she could have hoped. The family didn’t disturb her in her room so if she wanted to be alone it was easy for her. Surprising herself, she spent a substantial amount of time with the family watching television, building Lego, eating meals and she enjoyed it. Callum helped her with her food plan and she was feeling better every day. She felt safe.

Today, however, she was going to leave the house to go somewhere that was definitely unsafe. She’d already been out to the Arts Centre to meet Frankie so she knew Callum and Ben were confident that she could take care of herself and they wouldn’t question her whereabouts. But today she was going to see Jackie.

On the train, she got out her notebook and wrote down what she might say:

_~~I’ve done everything you’ve asked but now I want to stop.~~ _

_~~I’ve been unwell and I can’t do this any more.~~ _

_~~The police have been sniffing around so I need to stop.~~ _

_The system is all set up. Somebody else could run it. I can’t do it. It makes me ill._

Any one of those reasons could see her chucked in the river. Could she double-cross Jackie instead?

She was still undecided as she sat waiting in the visiting room and seeing Jackie’s glaring face as she approached emptied her mind of any residual thoughts of trying to get the better of her.

“Megan, Megan, Megan,” she snarled. “What’re you doin’ livin’ with my family? I’m sure I was very clear that none of this was to come anywhere near my family.”

“I was ill,” whispered Meg. “They wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“So I ‘eard. Seems to me like you’re becoming a weak link.” Jackie left the words hanging in the air dangling their implicit threat. Meg was empty. Her mind had shut down and she had no words, no thoughts, no feelings. “You’ve got a job to do, young lady,” warned Jackie.

“The system is all set up. Somebody else could run it. I can’t do it. It makes me ill.” In Meg’s mind’s eye, she could see the words written in her notebook and she read them out verbatim.

“It is. They could.” Pushing her chair back, Jackie rose to standing and turned. “Why would I give a shit about you?” she snarled and left. Meg was petrified in her seat.

If she stayed, she was dead. It was time to be somebody else.


	3. What you don't know can hurt you

The doorbell rang and Callum jumped up straightaway to admit DI Richard Linsell and DS Manish Patel. They were expected because Ben and Callum were reporting Megan missing. She had not returned home yesterday and, although it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours, they were sure something was amiss.

“Have we met before?” asked Ben addressing Manish and hoping that it hadn’t been on an occasion when he’d been in trouble. “You look familiar.”

“I worked in Organised Crime two years ago, bit less, when we brought in your dad and your husband’s mum. I was a lowly DC.” The recognition told Manish something about Ben’s observational skills. Ben had seen him once across a room full of people.

Callum started by explaining Meg’s history knowing that now was not the time to be keeping secrets but also conscious that Richard was going to be very annoyed with them.

“So Megan Smith is the missing person Tracye Hayes?” clarified Richard, not bothering to hide his irritation. “Given that’s a case on review for us at Missing Persons, you didn’t think it was worth telling us?

“Yes of course,” sighed Ben, frustrated that this was even a thing. Was it their fault if there wasn’t any joined up thinking in the police? “Megan’s of interest to Organised Crime so we have talked to DI Peacock. We should have talked to you as well but we didn’t think about it because we had already talked to the police. But we should have told you. Of course we should’ve.”

“But she’s now missing all over again,” emphasised Callum. “It’s a different case.”

Richard could see that Callum and Ben were highly agitated and clearly worried for Megan’s welfare. What he couldn’t quite grasp was their relationship with her. As far as he could understand it, one of their MHI colleagues was a long-term friend of Tracye Hayes and had helped Tracye change her identity, the friend had told Callum and Ben and asked them to meet her, then less than four months later she was living in their house. Was Callum’s and Ben’s spare room ever spare and did they ever spend enough time getting to know people? he wondered. Richard wasn’t pretending he lived his life like Callum and Ben lived theirs but for the life of him he didn’t understand their decision making.

“Why was she living with you?” he asked. Ben couldn’t understand why Richard was making a big deal out of why Meg at been at their house.

“She lives alone but she’s been unwell, was in hospital for four nights and, in order to be discharged, she needed to not live alone while she was recovering.”

“Yes but why you?” persisted Richard. Ben scowled at him; he was becoming as irritated as Richard.

“Meg has a very small social network,” he explained endeavouring to sound patient. “She only knows us, Frankie and Marcus and our remote colleague. She’s estranged from her birth family as we’ve explained.” Ben watched Richard, thinking that probably everybody in Richard’s life had family and friends and was financially secure or at least off the bread line. And neurotypical, heterosexual and white, he added in his head, a little unfairly. But only a little.

“Frankie and Marcus? Remote colleague?” Manish was picking up that his DI didn’t just know Callum and Ben - he knew ALL of these people. Their mutual relationships weren’t helping Manish take notes.

“Frankie Lewis, Marcus Tilford.” Callum helped him out by supplying the full names. “We’re keeping the identity of our remote colleague confidential unless you really need to know. They all work for our business, Mitchell Highway Investigations, Marcus less than the others. Meg has also worked for us but isn’t currently.”

“We’ll decide what we REALLY need to know,” grumped Richard. Callum and Ben ignored him.

“Why isn’t she working for you any more?” asked Manish, picking up that both Richard and Ben were losing their patience and wanting to keep the conversation constructive.

“When Tilly Driver was killed, it was more than she could cope with,” explained Callum. Richard had been involved in that case and knew MHI had struggled to come to terms with the young girl’s death.

“I remember,” he said quietly, offering Callum and Ben some understanding. It was enough to diffuse the tension. That shared experience had been horrific but it now brought them together.

“She said she was doing something else now,” added Ben, “but she hadn’t yet said what. She’s very private and I haven’t had time to get it out of her.”

Manish was writing furiously in his notebook and Richard sat back in his chair, clearly thinking.

“She hasn’t taken any of her belongings as far as we can tell. Do you want to see her room?” offered Callum. Richard nodded and they all traipsed upstairs, Callum fretting all the way about the police issue boots tramping over his carpet.

The room that Meg had been using was extremely tidy; most of her things were still packed in boxes but even these were stacked neatly. Ben and Callum stood in the doorway as Richard and Manish looked in every corner, box and drawer.

“She’s not even got her tablet with her,” said Ben, pointing at the tech on the dressing table which Meg had clearly used as a desk. “Although I suppose maybe that’s not really that unusual. She tends to live off her phone.”

“Phone? Do you know where it is?” asked Manish.

“We’re assuming it’s with her, but it’s off,” replied Callum. Ben was looking at the drawers and the wardrobe thoughtfully.

“Did you find a fat suit?” he asked, coming into the room and looking through the wardrobe. “She’s got a fat suit. And at least one wig.” They all searched but neither item was there. “I can’t see her throwing those things away,” insisted Ben so Callum texted Frankie to see if she knew anything about them. Almost instantly she replied.

“Frankie says they weren’t at the house when she packed Meg’s things. She still has the key so she’s going to bring it round. Then you can go and look for yourself,” he said, addressing Manish and Richard. Manish was aware that Richard had sat down on the dressing table stool and was leaving the discussion to Callum and Ben. It was an interesting development. He had heard DI Peacock warn her team not to underestimate them, telling them that they were impressive investigators. It seemed to him that maybe Richard also held this opinion.

“I’m sure Frankie said there’s nothing left there,” pondered Ben. “Which means Meg has a store of other belongings, I’m thinking stuff to help her disappear.”

“If that’s it,” continued Callum, “we need to know where she went yesterday and what spooked her into running.”

Manish watched the rapid interplay between Callum and Ben. Richard could see that they had a theory.

“Okay, you two. Where do you think she went?”

“To see my mum,” answered Callum. “You need to talk to DI Peacock. She has more information on this.”

“But please,” requested Ben earnestly, “please let us know if you find her. She named us as next of kin at the hospital so it is appropriate. We’re worried about her.”

“Did you ever see her in the fat suit? What did she look like?” asked Manish. It was a good question and Richard glanced at him, pleased.

“Older, dowdy clothes, mousy brown bob, obviously fatter. I’ll sketch it for you. Just need to get drawing stuff from upstairs,” said Ben, disappearing from the room. Meanwhile Callum took Manish and Richard downstairs and through to the kitchen while he made some coffee. Manish took it all in as they moved through the house, admiring the unusual art, the uncluttered spaces (and these people had children?) and the confident use of colour, then thinking that the kitchen was a bit of a disappointment after the rest of the house. Callum somehow read his mind.

“It’s the kitchen my grandad put in more than twenty years ago. Work starts in a couple of weeks. We’re having a new kitchen.” He pushed some plans towards Manish who made a mental note to be more guarded around this observant pair. They were mind-readers. The new kitchen was going to be gorgeous, he thought, scrutinising the drawings. Richard also looked with interest at the plans.

“Oh, you’re using the same builder as Louise,” he commented. Louise? wondered Manish.

“Ben’s sister,” explained Callum, looking curiously at Richard then addressing Manish. “She’s … friends with DI Linsell.” Friends or lovers? thought Manish as he watched Richard studiously examine the plans, obviously annoyed at himself for the slip up in front of his DS.

A few minutes later, Ben appeared and handed over a drawing. It was a simple sketch but undeniably captured a likeness of Meg. Callum had only recently discovered Ben’s artistic talent and was once more surprised at his ability. He really was gifted.

“Wow,” said Manish, impressed. “This is good. But does it look like her?” he asked Callum, grinning at Ben’s affronted expression. Callum laughed at the cheek and decided he liked this DS.

“Yes,” he affirmed. “ And no.” He gestured for Manish to follow him into the room off the kitchen and pointed at the photos of Meg. “Can you see the likeness?”

“Yeah,” Manish said. “Can I take photos of your photos?” Callum nodded. Manish swept his eyes over the rest of the photos, seeing a wide range of family and friends depicted.

“Louise,” said Callum, pointing at a photo of a tall, attractive blonde woman with Ben. So this was the gaffer’s love interest, thought Manish.

“These your kids?” he asked. Callum and Ben were a similar age to him and Joe but they were married, lived in this huge house and had three quite big children. Manish didn’t envy them any of it. He had a bunch of nephews and nieces living with his siblings in big old houses. Both the children and the houses were hard work. Ben and Callum, like his siblings, had obviously started young and Manish was very grateful that this had not happened to him.

“Lexi, Ben’s biological daughter, mine by adoption. Roman and Tyler, my late sister’s boys. Ben and me adopted them. We know we’re young dads.” Mind-reading again, despaired Manish, trying to wrestle his face into neutrality.

Robbie was snoozing in one of the chairs and Manish stroked his head. He loved dogs. His family were all terrified of dogs and it was something he’d never understood.

“And who’s this?” he asked.

“Robbie! He’s not been well, long story, so he’s tired a lot.” Callum looked concerned as he reached for Robbie’s ears. “But stronger every day, eh, beautiful boy?” He held the little dog’s face and smiled at him.

When they went back into the kitchen a short woman with long plaited hair was with Ben and Richard. Manish hadn’t heard the doorbell so deduced this person had her own key.

“This is Frankie,” introduced Callum. “DS Manish Patel.” He spelt out the name quickly using signing.

“Hi,” greeted Frankie distractedly, her face lined with worry. She carried on with the conversation that Callum and Manish had walked in on. “I think she’ll be off-grid. Homeless cover, sleeping rough, maybe a hostel, somewhere we’ll never find her.”

“Yeah maybe,” agreed Ben uncertainly. “But this looks like she planned it. Like an escape pod in case everything went belly up for her. She’ll need space for her stuff and I can’t see her living without tech so not sleeping rough would be my guess. If she has a plan and she’s sticking to it, she might be alright. We know she can look after herself, Frankie.” He was trying to be reassuring but didn’t look particularly convinced by his own argument.

“She was here because she COULDN’T look after herself,” pointed out Frankie.

Manish felt like he was surplus to requirements. He had picked up that Frankie was deaf from her speech and because Ben and Callum were signing as well as talking, making him think that he shouldn’t speak as she wouldn’t be able to hear him. Richard was now on his phone near the large French windows. Who was he calling? Manish loitered around the kitchen counter accepting the coffee he was offered until Richard finished his call and came to join them.

“DI Peacock is going to join us. Twenty minutes. So let’s go through what we have so far.” Manish saw Ben move casually to Richard’s side and sign as Richard spoke. Callum had gathered a sheet of paper and a pen from the room off the kitchen and made notes as they talked giving Frankie further access to the conversation. Manish watched and learned.

Amanda arrived with her DS exactly twenty minutes later in a very determined mood. She moved their meeting into the office and took charge immediately.

“Get Charlie in here,” she barked. Ben and Callum looked at each other, silently conferring and coming to a decision to comply. Ben went to the computer station and a few seconds later a screen came on, no visual other than the word _Charlie_. Ah, the remote colleague, surmised Manish.

“Right,” started Amanda. “We know Meg visited Jackie yesterday. It was a much shorter visit than previous visits. CCTV shows Jackie looking angry, threatening and Meg looking distressed.”

“Do you have the CCTV?” interrupted Frankie. “I could try to lipread …” Amanda nodded at Adam who pulled up a file on his tablet. They all watched Frankie.

“Jackie’s saying something about family … Meg’s saying she’s ill … Jackie … it’s hard without seeing her whole face … oh, job to do, she says job to do … Meg looks awful, says ill again … oh, I got Jackie’s full face for that bit. She says: Why would I give a shit about you?”

Amanda nodded at Adam and he took up the story.

“So I think we can say that Jackie has Meg doing something for her. Our working theory is that Meg has been threatened and is being coerced into doing whatever it is. Given Meg’s technological expertise, we think this is some kind of cyber-crime. We initially thought money-laundering because of the link to Julie Golding, and they are definitely involved in that racket but it could be other things as well.” He glanced at Amanda. “Jackie is very careful. The only other visitors we have for her are you two, Callum’s brother and his wife and Jackie’s old running mate Debs Tomsett. We’ve had Debs in and she’s not giving anything away. The latest rumblings we’ve had on her are linked to modern slavery so we’re keeping an open mind. It could be that.”

“Did you follow Meg when she left the prison?” asked Ben. Adam answered.

“We have collected CCTV footage to follow Meg after she left the prison, picking her up at the station. We took a punt that she would head out this way and have checked all stations east in a three hour window. Nothing.”

“Jackie said _family_ ,” muttered Amanda contemplatively. “Callum and Ben. When you next visit Jackie, see what you can get from her.” She stared at the screen: _Charlie_. “Charlie. I’m going to send you some files. See what you can find.” Richard looked at her in surprise. This was irregular.

“What about the missing persons case?” asked Callum. “DI Linsell and DS Patel are here because we’re reporting Meg as missing.” The police officers all looked at each other.

“Not going to fly,” admitted Richard a shade defensively. “She’s twenty one. She has form for disappearing and being intensely private. Some of her things are missing so it looks like she decided to go.”

“She’s still of interest to us,” added Amanda apologetically, knowing she was about to impart bad news. “But as a suspect involved with organised crime. Don’t forget she has form for that as well.” She looked around at the dismayed faces of the MHI team. “Please tell me you understand why this would be the official police position.” Callum, Ben and Frankie nodded reluctantly. “We know she’s important to you and it is possible she is a victim of exploitation here. That’s why I am UNOFFICIALLY okay with you working on it and we will try to support you. DS Patel and DS Akhtar will liaise with you UNOFFICIALLY. But this stays between the people in this room.” She glared at Richard and he shrugged his assent.

The police officers took their leave shortly afterwards.

“We’ve GOT to do some paying work,” insisted Callum, “especially if we are going to be spending time on finding and helping Meg. Have you got time Frankie?”

“I can work full-time for you … for a while … if it helps,” she said. “I want to help Meg. I’m happy to do butters and lolos but please let me help with Meg as well.”

“What about you, Charlie? Your police work – is it going to take a lot of your time?” asked Callum.

“A bit of my time,” answered Charlie. “But I can work more hours for you if you want. I want to help with Meg as well.”

It was a relief. Callum had been worried about the MHI caseload – he’d just confirmed with a number of clients that MHI would take their cases - but with extra time from Charlie and Frankie, everything would be alright.

Ben was racking his brain for an idea about Meg. Had she ever mentioned anywhere? His gut was telling him she would be nearby. She had never left this area in her life and, on the one occasion he had questioned if she would be safer elsewhere, she had been defensively fixed about it. They needed to find her before the police did. Whatever she was up to with Jackie, there was zero chance of it being good, and Meg could find herself in very hot water. Ben didn’t believe she was a bad person so it was on him and Callum and their team to rescue her.

+++

The situation room for the Major Investigation Team looking into the death of Noah Belasis was silent. DCI Terri Wilcox had just heard that her prime suspects, Callum and Ben Mitchell-Highway, had been on holiday at the time of Noah’s murder with no witnesses, just transactions for petrol on the journey to Northumberland and lunch for both the journey up and the journey down. Her team were watching her warily, wondering which way she was going to go.

“To be fair guv,” said DI Linda Bird. “If they’d arranged to ‘ave ‘im popped, goin’ away might ‘ave been for the purposes of an alibi.”

“Popped? You sound like something off a crap TV show. He was murdered. And who are you being fair to DI Bird?” snapped Terri. “To be fair. What does that even fuckin’ mean?”

“Noone saw them all week guv. Who goes away and isn’t seen by a single person?” protested Linda. “Who goes on holiday and doesn’t go out, doesn’t spend any money?”

“Or is there a teensy weensy possibility that we haven’t interviewed every single person in Northumberland and we just haven’t found anybody who saw them?” Terri’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Or they went away and spent all week doing all the things they can’t do at home with kids in the next room, so didn’t leave the house.” She stared pointedly at DS Joe Munday. Was he supposed to know this as a fellow gay man? he wondered.

“We’ve got their financial records but nothing there to suggest they paid for a hit.” DC Holly Lakewell aimed for a deeper pitch to give her some gravitas but her voice still came out sounding like a ten year old. The DCI didn’t even bother looking at her.

“We’ve also looked at calls, texts, emails, social media,” offered Holly, determined not to be put off. She couldn’t help her voice and none of the men had to even think about controlling theirs. “Nothing even vaguely suspicious.”

“So we’re fucking nowhere!” yelled DCI Terri Wilcox, hurling her shriek at her incompetent team. “Our pretty gay boys are pure angels, are they?

“Not exactly nowhere, ma’am,” said DS Joe Munday calmly, knowing how much she hated the moniker and using it instead of her preferred ‘guv’ expressly to get on her nerves. He was going to ask for a move because he was absolutely sick of her shouting, the way nothing was ever good enough but mostly because of her blatant homophobia. “We’ve tracked Noah’s last movements.” He stood up and displayed his files on the screen. “He handed in his notice at work and his last day was supposed to be Friday, February 12th but the last day he worked was February 9th, finishing at twelve thirty am on February 10th. CCTV shows him walking towards his hotel as far as this point on Westferry Road. After that there is no sign of him. The early morning of February 10th is within the time period for time of death indicated by the post-mortem. We have traced every car that went past that point until one thirty am and have spoken to every registered owner except this man. Jimmy Blackwell. We’ve nothing on him in the past five years. Before that he has form for being a heavy for hire; ABH and GBH convictions. Nothing to connect him to Mr and Mr Mitchell-Highway.”

Terri snorted.

“Do you know how fuckin’ ridiculous you sound?” she taunted. Joe ignored her and carried on.

“We have not been able to locate Mr Blackwell.” He emphasised the Mr knowing he was skating close to thin ice but not caring. Terri glared at him. At least he has a spine, she thought.

“So we need to connect the dots,” she growled, drawing two dots on the board, labelling one Jimmy Blackwell and the other Mr+Mr.

“We’ve got more … guv,” continued Joe, reining in his angry impulses. “Noah has form for harassment. No formal complaint to the police but we now have a statement alleging harassment. From James Bates, known as Jim. He had a brief affair with Noah fifteen years ago when they were fifteen. Three years ago Noah tracked Jim down. Jim is living a double life. Married with kids, series of boyfriends on the side. Noah found out and he blackmailed Jim into meeting him. Jim met him and thought that was the end of it but a photo of him and a boyfriend appeared on a digital photo frame in the family home. Even then, Jim thought maybe it was his own mistake until Noah sent him a message. No words just that photo.”

“So what are you saying DS Munday?” asked Terri, her eyes glinting. “That the Mitchell-Highways might be telling the truth about Noah’s harassment of them?”

Joe realised too late that he hadn’t done Callum and Ben any favours.

“You know what I call that DS Munday?” crowed Terri. “Motive!”

+++

It had been a week since their visit to the police station and Callum and Ben were trying to put it behind them and carry on with their everyday life which today meant cycling and walking Robbie in the forest.

The trees were exploding with pops of green as leaf buds burst open and glittering streams gurgled alongside hoggin paths that crunched underfoot. Or underwheel as Roman, Tyler and Callum were cycling, leaving the firm path every now and then to chase narrow trails and jump over logs while Robbie bounded in and out of the water, his wide, toothy grin lighting up his face. Ben and Lexi were on foot. It was a typical Sunday for the Mitchell-Highways and Ben, for one, was enjoying the bright, sunny day and the chance to be walking in the forest.

“Daddy,” said Lexi, grasping Ben’s hand. Her voice sounded uncertain and he wondered what she was going to ask – ‘Daddy’ almost invariably meant she was wheedling for something - but he was in no way prepared for what she was about to say. “Daddy, what did you do to go to prison?” Ben’s heart stopped and he looked around in panic. Where was Callum? They’d always known that one day this question would come. They had discussed it many times, planned their responses. But not once had they planned for Ben to be alone. “Daddy?” The grip on his hand tightened.

“I will tell you,” he answered. “But it’s really hard for me to tell you. It’s awful and I’m ashamed. But I AM going to tell you.” His heart was in his mouth and he was sweating, struggling to keep his composure. This had to be handled perfectly. He didn’t want to live with his daughter despising him.

“You want Dad with you when you tell us?” Lexi stopped and held both of Ben’s hands. He could see the love on her face wanting to help him with his discomfiture … alongside determination to get her answers. Lexi was a force to be reckoned with, a stronger force with each passing year. He knew, however, that she had no idea what she was asking and how she was going to feel about the answer. But it was her last word that got his attention.

“Us?” He knew what this meant. Roman and Tyler were involved.

“Yes, me and Ro and Ty. We all want to know.” Ben almost fainted. All his children would hate him. He had a few more minutes of being an adored daddy then his time was up. In their discussions about this, Callum thought the children would understand the difference between Ben now and Ben then, but Ben knew differently. His own dad was a thug and it would always be a lens through which he viewed him. Telling them about his manslaughter conviction would irreversibly change how they saw him. His primary concern was not this, however – it was his little boys. Would this destabilise them? He was more confident of Lexi. She’d been with him almost nine years and she was growing up and could understand more. But Roman and Tyler had not yet been with them two years and were younger, much younger. Callum and he provided security and stability in their young lives.

“You’ve discussed it with them? Lex, they’re only nine.”

“Daddy, I hadn’t remembered it in ages. It was Roman who asked and I didn’t know. He was going to ask you but he wanted to bike so I said I would ask you. I told him you would tell us. You always say we can ask questions and you’ll tell us the truth.”

Ben slumped onto the picnic bench where they’d planned to stop and have snacks. It was one of his favourite places in the forest with the large lake nearby, somewhere where he and Robbie often stopped to be thankful. He was thankful for Callum, for the love they shared, and he was massively thankful for his children. They lit up his life and made it so much more than it would be otherwise. Lexi was still holding his hand, Robbie was nestled up against his calf and Callum and the boys were approaching on their bikes. Without that question, it would have been an idyllic moment in time.

Callum spotted Ben’s distress from a distance. He leaned his bike against a tree and went to sit with Ben, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“What’s up?” he murmured in his ear. Ben looked at him, pale and frightened.

“They want to know why I was sent down. All three of them,” he whispered. The boys propped up their bikes and sauntered over while Lexi watched Callum and Ben, wondering what all the whispering was about. Callum took charge as Ben had known he would.

“Alright, you three on that side, me and Dad on this side,” instructed Callum. The children clambered onto the bench and sat waiting, watching their dads and recognising that this was important. Callum turned to Ben and held his face gently. “We’ve talked about this.”

“It’s now?” trembled Ben. Callum nodded. Together they turned to face the children.

“Lexi tells me that you all want to know what I did to get sent to prison. Before I tell you, I want you all to know that I am a kind and loving person and I love you all.” Ben looked down at the table and tried to compose himself. “But I have done bad things in the past. When I was fourteen, I hit a boy with a wrench and fractured his skull. I went to prison for eight months.” Ben had practised these words over and over but he didn’t want them to sound rehearsed. It was important that he sounded remorseful but he was worried that he’d sounded robotic, like it wasn’t as terrible as it actually was.

“Why did you hit him?” Roman asked the question but all three of them were looking at him inquisitively. He squirmed inside.

“I was bullied a lot at school and he was mean to me but, being honest, I did it because I wanted my dad to think I was tough. He told me I should hit anyone givin’ me grief. That’s wrong by-the-way. We don’t want any of you doin’ that.”

“Why did Grandad want you to be tough?” Tyler was the next inquisitor.

“Because he was brought up to think men should be fighters? His dad, my grandad, was a mean old man. Or maybe because he mixed with bad people and acting tough was what they did? I don’t really know. But I wasn’t tough. I was softer, liked dancing and art, liked boys. I wasn’t what Grandad wanted. He wanted a son who was tough, liked football or boxing maybe, liked girls. I wasn’t right.” He hadn’t wanted to cry but couldn’t help it. Callum’s arm was securely around him, keeping him from collapsing.

“Oh, Daddy!” Lexi flung her arms across the table and clutched Ben’s hands. “Where was Nanny? Why didn’t she take you away from Grandad?”

“Nanny was still in South Africa. I moved back to England when I was ten to live with Grandad.”

“Didn’t she visit you? Didn’t she talk to you on the phone?” Lexi was looking confused. Her own mum lived in New Zealand and, although she’d only seen her twice in the last nine years, she talked to her without fail every week.

“I didn’t see Nanny for eight years. It’s a long way to travel. Expensive. You couldn’t do video calls like you can now.” Ben was feeling a bit concerned. Whilst he was committed to being truthful with his children, he did not want to throw his mum under the bus. Callum and he had not anticipated quite so many questions about Kathy. “Nanny was really upset when she found out,” he said, aiming for something that was broadly honest. He squeezed Lexi’s hands and looked at the boys. Their faces were crumpled and, before he could stop himself, Ben blubbed loudly, causing them both to start crying.

“God, I’m sorry all of you. I wish I’d been a better person. I really do,” he sobbed.

“The boy you hit – was he alright?” asked Roman. Ben nodded, deciding that this was the segue into the much worse offence.

“He was. But the reason I went to prison the second time was that I hit somebody, somebody I liked a lot, in an argument. I hit her round the head with a picture frame and she died. I killed her. I didn’t mean to but she’s still dead.”

“You accidentally killed your friend,” surmised Lexi, her stricken face betraying her horror despite the excuse-laden words.

“I didn’t mean to kill her but I did hit her with the picture frame. It wasn’t an accident. I’m not pretending I’m not responsible. I absolutely am responsible.” This was an essential message that Ben wanted to convey. He needed the children to understand that it was impossible to be properly sorry if you didn’t accept responsibility for what you had done.

“Does it make you feel sad, Daddy?” Roman’s voice was shaking, tears still close to the surface.

“I should feel sad bubba. I feel terrible about it. I should feel terrible.” He looked at his beautiful, precious children. “I wish you didn’t have a dad who’s killed somebody.”

“You wish you aren’t our dad?” Tyler looked horrified.

“God no!” Ben exclaimed, backtracking rapidly. “It’s the most amazing thing to be your dad. I LOVE being your dad. I just wish I was better.”

“You’re the best dad,” said Tyler adamantly, Roman vehemently nodding alongside him.

“You were already better when I came to live with you,” asserted Lexi. “And that was YEARS before you even met Ro and Ty. You’ve always been the best dad.”

“What did YOU do, Dad?” asked Roman, turning to Callum. Just like that, their interest in Ben’s story was over and now they wanted to know about Callum. It caught Callum a little by surprise and he swallowed nervously.

“I lost my temper and punched somebody. As we’re being completely honest, I’ve lost my temper and hit people a few times. It was just that two of those times I was arrested. Both times, instead of going to prison, I was given community work to do. It’s where you have to do something useful for other people. I wasn’t a kid like Dad, I was grown up.”

The three children looked at him blankly.

“You lost your temper?” The disbelief in Lexi’s voice was very clear. Callum felt more ashamed than he had ever felt in his life. Ben held his hand firmly. They had agreed that they would each tell their own story but Ben could sense Callum’s anguish and wanted to show his support.

“Did Grandad want you to be tough when you were a kid?” asked Roman. Ben and Callum looked at him in surprise. He was the most sensitive of their children but, even so, this was a particularly perceptive question for a nine year old.

“Yeah, he did.” Callum was very keen not to present a different version of his dad to the person they had known as their grandad but it turned out they recognised his version.

“He wanted us to be tough as well,” said Tyler, looking at Roman who nodded his agreement.

“Did he want you to like girls instead of boys?” asked Lexi. Callum nodded. “So both of your dads were homophobic and both of your mums weren’t around,” she stated. Roman and Tyler looked at her curiously. “Our dads had horrible childhoods,” she told them.

“Okay, that’s true,” agreed Callum. “But plenty of people have horrible childhoods and don’t commit crimes like dad and me did. We do NOT want you to think that we can excuse what we did. We can’t. And we don’t. But we ARE better people now, we promise.”

“Our mums aren’t around,” commented Tyler. “What’s homophobic?”

Lexi decided she needed to add to the boys’ education. “Homophobic people hate gay people. And our dads are gay which means they love men not women. It’s why they love each other. And it’s okay that our mums aren’t around because we have TWO dads who love us.”

“Your dads were homophobic so they hated you?” Roman was shocked. “Why?”

“It’s really hard to explain, bubba,” said Callum, floundering as no good explanation came to mind. “Because there isn’t an explanation that makes any sense. It’s just wrong.”

“Does your dad still hate you?” Roman directed the question at Ben.

“No, I think he’s beginning to understand. He likes me and Dad together. And he really likes Dad. Dad talks about football with him.” The children’s distress had evaporated and Ben smiled tentatively at Callum. Had this gone better than they’d ever hoped?

“What snacks have we got?” asked Tyler. Lexi grabbed the backpack and emptied it onto the table and they busied themselves sharing out the contents, difficult messages seemingly long forgotten. Before long they had consumed everything and were down at the lake throwing a stick for Robbie to retrieve.

“Do you think it hasn’t sunk in?” Ben asked Callum, watching them playing and laughing as Robbie shook himself and sprayed them with water.

“I don’t know. But it’s out there now. They asked their questions and we answered honestly. Is it a relief?” Callum knew Ben had torn himself in two with worry about the children knowing he’d killed somebody.

“Yeah. It is. But I’m a bit sad they believed it so quickly of me when they couldn’t believe that you were even capable of losing your temper. I don’t come across as a killer, do I?”

“Ben, you’re NOT a killer. They could believe that as a kid you hit people and they know you’re not a kid any more. I was telling them that I did it as an adult which is how they see me now, so it didn’t make sense to them. You see the difference?”

“Yeah I guess.” Ben slumped on the table, head to the side as he watched the children. After a few minutes he sat up. “Come on, time for home. I need a lie down.” Ben pulled Callum to standing and moved in for a hug. Callum gave the best hugs, with long arms that completely enveloped him and a broad chest for him to snuggle into, and Ben tried to reciprocate with holding on tight and sneaking in a neck kiss. He was struggling to feel worthy of his beautiful family. He hated that he had killed his friend Heather but he couldn’t bring her back. The very best he could do was to be sorry and then be better so he offered a silent but heartfelt apology to Heather and made a promise to be the best person he could be.

+++

Lexi and Lily had never been particularly close. Lexi thought Lily and her friends were pointless prima donnas, interested only in bags, boys and bitching. Lily thought Lexi, Bonny and Miles were immature and boring and had an inkling that Lexi judged her with contemptuous superiority. It was not a recipe for friendship.

But the trouble Lily had found herself in earlier in the year when she had been exploited as a money mule had shaken her. She had tried to talk to her friends but they had looked at her blankly and changed the subject. All they ever wanted to talk about was what they looked like or the latest object of their affections or they wanted to gossip about somebody they hated for no good reason. Today that was Lexi Mitchell-Highway.

“Do you think she’s pretty? She acts like she is,” snarked Molly, kicking off the character assassination. “Maybe she could be if she did something with herself.”

“She could have nice hair but it’s a mess. And she is sooo pale. And blonde eyelashes, yuck,” Caitlin shuddered with disgust.

They were watching Lexi sitting by herself across the classroom, looking a little bit lost. Bonny and Miles were sitting at the desk in front of her but were deep in conversation with each other and Lexi was definitely not included.

“Did you hear Miles and Bonny are going out?” added Krishi. “They’re the only ones who like her. Who’s she going to be friends with now?” she laughed cruelly.

Lily was uncomfortable with the unkindness. The one person she had been able to talk to after her ordeal was Lexi and her ideas about her were changing. She now thought that Lexi was strong and principled and she was a little in awe of her. Yes, Lexi was opinionated and often a bit too fierce, but she was kind as well and she wouldn’t stand by if something she thought was wrong was happening.

“Lily where are you going?” whined Caitlin as Lily gathered her books and moved away. Lily ignored her and went to sit with Lexi.

“Not a charity case, Lily,” grumbled Lexi as Lily sat down. Lily looked at her confused. Lexi looked back exasperated. “They’re not exactly quiet. Blonde eyelashes - yuck,” she mimicked.

“I didn’t join in,” protested Lily. “And I’m sitting with you.”

“You don’t need to feel sorry for me,” snapped Lexi. “Like I said – not a charity case.” In truth, she hated her blonde eyelashes. She’d worn make-up for Aunty Whitney’s wedding and she’d liked how it looked on her, particularly the way mascara created dark eyelashes. But she would boil her own eyeballs before she would have her appearance dictated by those stupid girls.

Lily looked closely at her and could see the resilience but also the hurt underneath that.

“You’re a good person and interesting and they’re …” she tailed off, unsure about how to describe her friends.

“Not?” suggested Lexi. Lily laughed.

“Yeah, not!”

The lesson was an eye opener for Lily. Lexi didn’t want to chat and she did the work they were set. So did Bonny and Miles. Is this what happened on this side of the room? wondered Lily. She snook a glance back at her friends, who were casually chatting in low voices and twiddling pens as though they were thinking. Unlikely, she thought meanly as she turned her concentration to the task.

Mrs Fleming, their English Teacher, was surprised to see Lily’s change of seat and assumed she had argued with Caitlin. Those girls were not kind enough to each other in her opinion. Life was hard enough for women without them turning on each other.

“Is everything alright, Lily?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am,” replied Lily, covering her paltry effort with her arm. She just needed a bit more time to improve her work and hoped the teacher would move on. Unfortunately for her, Mrs Fleming also wanted to talk to Lexi.

“Lexi, have you thought about joining the school news team?” Lexi looked at her surprised. She had enquired about being part of this team but had been told she had to wait until she was in year nine.

“I have ma’am but I need to be in year nine,” she replied, confused about why Mrs Fleming didn’t know this as she was one of the teachers who supported the news team.

“We have a lot of year elevens on the team at the moment and they are all just about to stand down to concentrate on their exams. So we’re looking for some strong year eights to join now. We’re meeting at lunchtime today. I’ll get you an early lunch pass.” Mrs Fleming turned to move away but was interrupted by Lily.

“Can I join as well ma’am?” She wasn’t sure she was what Mrs Fleming meant by a strong year eight but if you didn’t ask, you didn’t get and it would save her from having to have lunch with Caitlin, Molly and Krishi.

“Er, is it something you’re interested in Lily?” asked Mrs Fleming, thinking that Lily wasn’t really the right sort of person. Lily nodded determinedly and Mrs Fleming was forced to give her a chance. “Well, er, yes, of course, if it’s something that you have an interest in, er, yes, I’ll get early lunch passes for both of you. Now get on with your work, Lily.”

The teacher moved on and Lexi turned to Lily.

“What the hell?” she hissed furiously. “Since when have you been interested in news? Why do you want to come?”

“You don’t know anything about me,” huffed Lily, panicking slightly as she realised she was going to have to fake this interest convincingly. Lexi rolled her eyes and curled her lip at Lily before turning back to her work.

The next words they exchanged were at lunch which, courtesy of their passes, they were eating together.

“Come on then,” challenged Lexi. “What would you be interested in writing about?”

“Child criminal exploitation,” answered Lily, fixing Lexi with a bold stare. Lexi was shocked.

“You’d write about what happened to you?” she asked, impressed despite her feelings about Lily. “It could be a hard thing to do.”

“Yeah I know,” agreed Lily, her pretence at confidence instantly crumbling. “But I don’t really know about anything else important.” Lexi looked at her, saw the uncertainty and decided to be kind.

“I bet you do,” she said reassuringly. “Anyway, we’ll be the most junior members of the team. We’ll probably be told what to do and then we can help each other.” Lily smiled thankfully.

They turned up at the assigned classroom both feeling nervous. The team was much smaller than they had imagined and there were only five other students in the room. Clearly taking charge was a year ten girl, Jessie Richards. Two year nines, twins Luke and Jack Shaw, looked interestedly at Lily and Lexi as they came in. Then there were two other year nine boys, Kojo Asante and Kafele Hassan, who were also interested but with less leering.

“Hello girls,” welcomed Mrs Fleming. “Everybody, let me introduce you to our new recruits. Lexi Mitchell-Highway and Lily Kulogowski.” She introduced the team, explaining that a number of year tens weren’t there because they had a meeting about a school trip, and a canon of ‘Hi’s and ‘Hey’s rattled around the attendees. The meeting got underway briskly and Lexi and Lily quickly realised they were going to have to earn their stripes with some serious writing. There were regular features including reports of school events, which they were relieved to find were prepared by students involved in the events, as well as light features such as recipes, fashion tips and music news. It was clear, however, that this team were primarily focused on their features for their termly theme.

“Our theme for this term is identity,” said Jessie. Mrs Fleming looked worriedly at Lily and Lexi wondering if this was something they had ever considered, knowing that the focus for the team was very much on gender and sexuality. “So we just need to make sure we’ve got a good spread of the issues.”

“Got anything to offer, newbies?” asked Kafele, looking them up and down disparagingly, privately thinking that these fluffy bundles of white privilege would have nothing at all.

“What are you writing about Kafele?” asked Lily, instantly irritated by his dismissive way of speaking and his disdainful look. She was never one to be put down without a comeback.

“Kaffi, darling,” corrected Kaffi.

“All one word?” asked Lexi with a straight face. Mrs Fleming suppressed a laugh. Kojo, Jack and Luke didn’t. Kaffi looked confused for a second and then joined the others with a loud laugh, eyes dancing with approval at Lexi’s sass.

“Not a gender specific endearment, darling,” he laughed. “I call everybody darling, Lexi darling.”

“I’d rather you didn’t call ME darling,” said Lexi. “Is that okay with you?”

“Of course,” purred Kaffi with a little bow. “So Lily darling, to answer your question, I’ll be writing about appropriate and inappropriate use of endearments.” He smiled sweetly and Lily rolled her eyes.

“I’d rather you didn’t call me darling either,” she told him.

“The theme’s too big. There are too many issues so we’ll end up leaving something out that’s important,” interjected Lexi. “Or we could end up doing harm. Some kids could be having serious problems and need proper support.”

“That’s why I’m here Lexi,” reasoned Mrs Fleming. Kaffi looked at Lexi curiously. This tiny girl with her wild blonde curls had understanding. Where had she got that from? he wondered.

“I’m writing about my experience of being bisexual,” he said, deciding on a bit of honesty. He was used to getting a reaction and was intrigued that neither Lexi not Lily batted an eyelid at that. “I am also interviewing a homosexual friend and a heterosexual. It’s a contrast piece.”

Kojo had been sitting quietly – Kaffi often dominated proceedings – but was also fascinated by the new girls, picking up that Lexi was smart and tough and Lily was here to be with Lexi but was also strong. He could also see that that these two pretty blonde girls would be of interest to the Shaw twins, known for their romantic liaisons. He didn’t fancy the boys’ chances one bit.

“I’m writing about toxic masculinity,” he said, keeping the conversation on topic.

“I’m writing about gender pronouns, and how to respond if you’re corrected,” added Jessie.

“We’re doing a piece together about Pride,” said Jack.

“It’s hard to imagine kids don’t know about Pride, but we did a survey and we know that some don’t,” explained Luke.

Everybody looked at Lexi and Lily. They were being put on the spot and Lexi was worried that Lily wouldn’t be able to think of anything. Once more, she was to be impressed with her fledgling friend.

“School dress code. Gender neutral clothing. I could write about that.” It was a great idea and the approval from the room bolstered Lily’s confidence. The attention moved to Lexi.

“My dads were both brought up with mums not there and homophobic dads. There was a big emphasis on being tough and it led them both to getting in trouble. But I don’t want to be too similar to your toxic masculinity piece, Kojo.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” interrupted Kaffi. “Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

“The criminal kind,” stated Lexi, holding her head up high, determined not to be ashamed.

“So your dads are gay criminals?” clarified Kaffi, completely engaged with this information.

“No!” said Lexi. “They are gay, always were, always will be. They committed crimes when they were much younger, but never again. Some things can’t change and some things can.”

“Your dads’ stories are perhaps a little complex,” suggested Mrs Fleming, thinking that Lexi’s family history, whilst known by many in their school community, didn’t need a published article bringing it under a spotlight. “It was difficult for you when people were talking about your grandparents. I don’t think it’s a good idea to have them talking about your dads.”

“Grandparents?” asked Kaffi, instantly deciding that Lexi with her colourful family was going to be his new best friend. Lexi shot an irritated look at the teacher.

“My dad’s dad and my other dad’s mum are in prison.” She glared at the news team. “I am not ashamed. My dads are good people. They’re amazing. But it is hard when people gossip so, please, I’m asking you not to gossip about this.”

“Agreed,” Kaffi almost shouted, grabbing Lexi’s hand and holding it out. Kojo understood straightaway what he was doing and added his hand.

“My lips are sealed,” he promised. Lily added hers.

“You’re my friend Lex. You can trust me.” Lexi and Lily locked eyes and their friendship was sealed. One by one the rest of the team added their hands, including Mrs Fleming. It was a binding moment.

“So what are you going to write about Lexi?” asked Jessie. Lexi thought for a moment.

“Identity: what can change and what can’t,” she said.

Kaffi clapped his hands excitedly. “Perfect!” he exclaimed.

+++

Being big fans of Italian food, Leonardo’s was one of Callum’s and Ben’s favourite restaurants. They were meeting Amanda and Steve for dinner and were keen to discuss their recent conversation with the children.

Amanda and Steve listened attentively to the story. Steve’s heart sank as he comprehended that they had taken to heart his advice to be honest when the children asked questions. These truths were a lot for such young children and he would not have recommended sharing this information but what could they do? - that ship had long since sailed when Tyler and Roman found out about the prison time in the first place. Steve did wonder why Callum and Ben had been so open with their friends. It wasn’t that he expected them to be demeaned and keep their histories as shameful secrets but they had been remarkably naïve not to anticipate that people, even good friends, would gossip.

“We think that the idea of killing somebody is so far removed from their experience that they can’t process what it actually means,” explained Ben, looking at Steve for confirmation.

“Hmm,” said Steve.

“We would NEVER have chosen to talk to Tyler and Roman about it at this age. They’re too young, don’t you think, to be able to understand?” Ben was desperately worried about the boys. He thought they were too young , much too young, and he wished that he hadn’t had to tell them. It was now the Easter holidays but he knew another session of shame was coming his way with the headteacher, Ms Johnson, as soon as school started back.

“Yeah,” said Steve.

“It’s just that now we think they’re … you’re not really saying anything,” Ben observed, belatedly realising that Steve hadn’t really responded. “You think we’ve done the wrong thing.”

“It’s not that mate,” explained Steve. “You had no choice. From what you’ve said, the question came from Roman. It was a shame he didn’t get to ask his own question because now you don’t know if that was what he was asking so you don’t know if he got the answer he needed. And you’ve assumed Tyler has the same questions as Roman. Roman could be thinking about it a lot so will be ready for answers and may be able to make sense of them. Tyler could be not thinking about it at all so the same answers don’t make any sense to him. It seems there were more questions about YOUR dads, their expectations about toughness, their homophobia. Lexi had questions about your mum, Ben. Did they engage with the idea of you hurting people? I’m not sure they did.”

“So, what do we do?” asked Callum.

“They struggled to believe that you would lose your temper because it doesn’t stack with what they know about you. Do you think Ben being a killer stacks with what they know? And if they can’t make sense of it …”

“… they ignore it,” completed Ben, dejected that he would have all of this to go through again.

“Even Lexi,” advised Steve. “But at some point they will engage with it.”

“So, what do we do?” repeated Callum.

“There’s another problem,” interjected Amanda. “You’re not off the hook for the murder of Noah Belasis. What happens if you’re charged with that? What will the children think then? You have promised them that you’re different now. But that would look like you haven’t changed.”

“We didn’t do it, Amanda,” said Callum. “We are different now.”

“Terri Wilcox is determined to have you for it,” persisted Amanda. She had heard this from Joe Munday. “She won’t be able to prove it. Her only evidence is that you have form. But what if the children hear that you were charged? It might be a case of mud sticking because for them as well you have form.”

“So, what do we do?” Callum was determined this time to get an answer. “What is the best way to go forward.”

“Sorry this isn’t more helpful but it’s your call,” apologised Steve. “You could wait for it to come up again. This is consistent with how you usually are – reactive. Or you could be proactive and raise the conversation again. It could be this is best for you, especially you Ben, and won’t cause the children any more problems. Talk to them all separately though. You’ll get a better feel for what they’re thinking. I can put you in touch with counsellors if you want. It could be a good idea. I would recommend it.”

Ben and Callum reached for each other’s hands under the table. Their fingers touched and quickly interlaced providing that physical connection they both craved. Steve saw their dismayed faces and was saddened that they had run into this problem, a feeling worsened as he knew Amanda wanted to share some other hard truths with them.

“Going back to Noah Belasis,” she began, wishing she wasn’t piling this on top of the problems with the children but relieved to see Ben and Callum focus. “A name has come up. Please keep this completely to yourselves and your team. Do NOT talk to other police.” Callum and Ben nodded their assent. “Jimmy Blackwell. He has form. ABH. GBH. Definite involvement with criminals five years and more ago but not recently and no links to Phil, Jackie, Danny or Aidan from that time. If he’s a professional hitman, so far Charlie has not been able to find out how he is hired. If he killed Noah, finding out who hired him will be the best way of clearing you. Your friend, Oliver Hargreaves, may be able to help you. His firm are well-connected with the current players in organised crime. Of course, he may not have access to these clients or it may be too dangerous for him to be involved. If he can help, we would need a link between Jimmy Blackwell and one of them. It IS a lot to ask of him.”

Callum and Ben looked despondent.

“We had a conversation with Ollie about this when Phil and Jackie were involved a couple of years ago and we agreed not to ask him to help,” explained Ben. “He said he would have to choose between loyalty to us and his loyalty to his dad and he didn’t want to have to make that choice.”

Amanda nodded her understanding.

“Just a thought,” she said.

Usually they found a lot to laugh about when they were together but tonight had been downbeat, so they decided to skip their usual nightcap and head home. On the way back, Ben and Amanda discussed a popular TV cop show which they had both been enjoying and were reassured that they could have a conversation about something light. Steve and Callum walked a little way behind them.

“I was going to ask your advice about something,” said Steve. “I was thinking about it before Christmas but you’ve had a lot going on so I waited. But … well, you always have a lot going on, don’t you?”

“I’m not sure I’m going to be able to give YOU advice,” smiled Callum. “It’s always the other way round.”

“No, you are,” insisted Steve. “You’ve got the exact blend of kindness and common sense I need.”

“Okay, shoot,” said Callum.

“Right. Okay,” Steve gathered his thoughts. “I used to support kids with their learning because of things that could be helped but couldn’t be changed like autism, disability, you know, but more and more it’s kids who have social, emotional and mental health needs that maybe could have been different if they’d had better starts in life. I know you understand the kind of trauma background I’m talking about. I’m not saying it’s a new thing and I’m committed to helping but there are SO many damaged kids. It’s an impossible task. Then, since Amanda has been in Organised Crime, she has story after story of kids being exploited. And they’re usually my kids, the ones I’m trying to help. It’s so fucking hopeless.”

“Ben and me talk about this, about how life is dark but most people aren’t aware. Even those living in the darkness don’t see who else is there with them.”

“And how does that make you feel?”

Callum slung an arm around Steve’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Desperately sad and then I put it away mentally because I can’t change it. You’re immersed in it, mate, and it’s children you’re helping. You CAN change it, at least to some extent, so there’s no puttin’ it away mentally. It’s much harder for you.”

“It’s breaking me,” said Steve in a small voice. “It’s breaking Amanda too but her response is to fight harder to keep herself together. I worry that we’ll hit retirement and be too broken to enjoy it. We can’t not do our jobs though. I don’t know what to do.” He was aware that he was walking down the street with his friend, arms around each other, and it was strengthening for him. He didn’t have another friend who gave him physical comfort like Callum and he had wondered for a while if Callum could hold his broken pieces together until they healed. That person had always been Amanda for him but she was hanging on herself.

“You need to do much more normal stuff,” advised Callum. “Spend time with your family and friends. Spend more time with Ben and me and the children. Come to France with us in the summer. We’ve got Kathy’s and Mike’s house and the gites for two weeks. We’d like that and it would be good for you. You can only help with the darkness if you’re a strong beam of light so self-care is what you need.”

Common sense and kindness - Steve smiled to himself that Callum had given him exactly that.

“I should ask Amanda first but I’m going to say yes. We’d love to spend some time in the summer with you all.”

+++

Jimmy Blackwell watched Ben and Amanda, Steve and Callum walking ahead of him. He was in trouble with the people who had hired him to kill Noah. These same people were Callum’s and Ben’s protectors and they were very annoyed that Callum and Ben were the prime suspects in the investigation into the murder of Noah. Jimmy could not see how this was his fault. Surely they could have worked out for themselves that this was likely to happen? But now he was very worried that he was about to be sold down the river and would find himself as the new prime suspect.

Tonight, however, Ben and Callum were out for dinner with a Detective Inspector. Jimmy was confused about this. Did police socialise with prime suspects? Surely not. Then it must be that Callum and Ben have police protectors AND criminal protectors, he reckoned. What chance did he have? He needed to find out more about them. But there was one thing for certain in his mind - he was not going down for this hit. There was no way he was going to prison. If necessary, he would make sure the police had evidence to tie their prime suspects, the seemingly fortunate Callum and Ben, to the crime.


	4. Go together, go far

Ollie was a tangle of nerves.

He and Tom had been on several dates, shared increasingly passionate kisses and pressed hungry bodies against each other. Did they have chemistry? Absolutely. They texted each other fifty times a day, they talked at length about this and that and made each other laugh over meals and drinks. Was there a connection? Without doubt. But they hadn’t been to each other’s homes, hadn’t had evenings out with each other’s friends, hadn’t talked much about their histories let alone met relatives. Early days? Most definitely, thought Ollie, sending himself a mental reminder not to get ahead of what was actually happening.

Tonight he was going to cook for Tom and Tom was going to stay over. The sexual tension between them was only heading one way and Tom had asked that, if they were going to take the next step (he never assumed anything) then could it be at one of their flats. He’d said he liked to be cosy. That was the word he’d used: cosy. Ollie smiled inwardly at the memory. Who wanted a cosy first night together? Tom apparently. He loved Tom’s authenticity, the way he presented himself without apology or aggrandisement, so completely natural and easy. Tom had told Ollie that he liked Ollie’s combination of serious and fun, his overthinking and his spontaneity. It’s like a perfect blend, he’d said. They were good together; Ollie could feel it.

When he’d moved into this flat, he had given away all of his (mainly black and distinctly bachelor pad) tableware and had started again. Looking back, he couldn’t understand any of the choices he’d made about his previous home. Setting the table, he was pleased with the look of his new things: grey and white patterned crockery; mats, coasters and napkins in silver and a soft, dark, dusky pink colour (“mulberry” Ben had said when they were shopping - Ben was an expert shopper). He’d been wondering about a candle or flowers but the table looked lovely just as it was. Tom’s musical taste was wide-ranging so Ollie chose something that he loved himself knowing that Tom would be interested in his choices. Finally, he turned off main lights and turned on side lights, turning some of those off again to get the lighting just right. It was their first night together and he wanted it to be romantic.

The doorbell rang and Ollie had to take several deep breaths. He was so keen for this evening to be special that he was in danger of ruining it with his own stress, so when he opened the door to see Tom, a backpack slung over his shoulder, clearly excited if his big smile and shining eyes were to be believed, his worries melted away and he kissed him warmly before dragging him inside.

“Make yourself at home,” he said and he meant it. It felt right to bring Tom into his home and he wanted him to like it and feel … cosy.

Tom brought his easy confidence and a bottle of a very nice red wine to dinner. Ollie was keeping it simple as he didn’t want to be stressing about food: fillet steak, spicy potatoes, salad. Only the steak needed to be cooked, everything else having been already prepared. They’d recently had a conversation about favourite ice creams and had discovered a mutual love of a specific (ridiculously expensive) brand of pistachio gelato. Dessert sorted.

“This is an excellent flat,” complimented Tom, poking around in the living room as Ollie was cooking the steak. “Is this your family?” He pointed at a photograph on a side table, a picture from the Christmas just gone showing the Hargreaves clan in all their finery. Ollie came over and named everybody: his brother and his two sisters, his three nephews, his mum and his dad.

“So let me guess … you’re number two?” deduced Tom, scrutinising the picture.

“I am. You think I look older than my sisters?” Ollie thought he looked much younger than his sisters.

“You do,” confirmed Tom, carrying on with his perusal. Ollie contemplated that from another person that might be a veiled insult but he knew it wasn’t in this case. Tom was just so straightforward.

“How old do you think I am?” Ollie asked as it occurred to him that they had never talked about their ages. They’d talked about a whole load of frippery but not in any depth about themselves. He wondered what that meant. If anything.

“Thirty-four,” replied Tom, a cheeky smile appearing.

“Okay, smart arse, so how did you know that?” quizzed Ollie. Tom pointed at a book on the shelf. It was Ollie’s high school yearbook.

“I did have to choose between thirty-four and thirty-five,” he smiled. “How old do you think I am?” Ollie looked at him appraisingly. He looked younger than him, maybe Ben’s age, a bit older possibly.

“Thirty?” he guessed. Tom smiled enigmatically. “You have to tell me,” laughed Ollie.

“Forty,” Tom replied and got out his phone to show Ollie a photograph. “This is me at twenty. I think you’ll agree, I look about twelve.” Ollie looked at a grinning boy sitting atop a dry stone wall, sheep chomping on moorland grass behind him. “And now I’m forty, you tell me I look thirty. So maybe when I’m sixty, I’ll look, what? Forty-eight? That’ll be a result, don’t you think?” He grinned at Ollie as he moved on to nose around the rest of the rooms. Ollie returned to the kitchen and laughed as he heard a “Hmm” of approval from the direction of his bedroom. A couple of minutes later, Tom came back and poured the wine, handing a glass to Ollie. They sipped, eyes locked on each other.

“La première gorgée,” said Tom, in his best seductive French accent. Ollie raised his eyebrows questioningly. “It refers to that first exquisite mouthful,” Tom explained, adding after a slight pause, “of wine.” They both giggled.

“You’ve used that line before,” accused Ollie. Tom moved towards him, the couple of inches height difference meaning that he had to look upwards slightly and Ollie felt suddenly anxious. Was he going to get this right? Was he going to mess it up? Be too boring or … something. He was making this way too important in his head and he really was panicking. Tom was very close and it was like sparks of static electricity jumped between them. Ollie closed his eyes for a second expecting to hear the crackle.

“You’re nervous,” Tom said softly. “Why? We’re two old dogs.” His eyes, almost as dark brown as Ollie’s, shone with care and kindness. Ollie was overwhelmed with the affection he was being shown and gulped not trusting himself to speak. Sensitively, Tom backed away. “Let’s eat,” he said, smiling. “I know it’s not good form to talk about exes but you could tell me about yours and what he did to bruise you so badly.”

So, over perfectly rare steak and mouth-wateringly good wine, Ollie told the story of Johnny. Tom stopped eating, fork midway to his mouth, when Ollie described Johnny’s and George’s role play of Callum and Ben. He put his cutlery down altogether when he heard about Johnny’s and Ben’s escapades on New Year’s Eve and his eyes widened as he heard how Johnny had admitted everything.

“He told them about this?” he asked in amazement, understanding as the story was wrapped up why Ollie might be having a crisis of confidence. He whistled slowly.

“Ollie Hargreaves. You live a life! I thought that story you told me about that Noah lad was mad enough … well it was … but this one …” He whistled again before standing up and collecting the plates, loading them immediately into the dishwasher. Ollie took the cue and started clearing up, watching Tom’s back and wondering what he was thinking. Tom was so at ease with himself, with this; it was like he’d been over to Ollie’s a hundred times. Maybe he shouldn’t have talked about Johnny, he wondered. Tom was right – it was bad form. He didn’t want Tom to think that there was an ember glowing somewhere in him for Johnny because there wasn’t. Ollie recognised that he was falling hard for this lovely man and didn’t want to mess up his chance of them building something together. Calm the fuck down, he reminded himself.

He grabbed the gelato and two spoons and nodded to the wine for Tom to bring and headed into the living room. They settled on the sofa, legs entwined together, sitting close so that they could share the ice cream. That was one reason.

“Are you wondering if your sexual preferences are a bit staid?” asked Tom with his characteristic bluntness, savouring the creamy gelato, licking it slowly from his spoon. Ollie watched him wondering if he was doing it on purpose and decided not - it was the way he ate this delicious concoction himself.

“Hmm maybe. I don’t know. Does it matter? If you’re doing what you like and your lover likes it.” Ollie tried to sound confident. Tom admired the truthful answer and the way Ollie had found exactly the right words. He was honest with himself – he really liked this gorgeous man and was hoping it would turn into something more. He watched him relishing the ice cream.

“This is delicious, isn’t it?” he smiled. “The gelato, sitting together, watching you lick that spoon. Are you doing that to tease me?”

“You’re doing it as well,” levelled Ollie.

“Am I?” Tom sounded surprised. “Is that what it looks like when I’m eating it?” And he demonstrated, this time with more tongue and eye contact firmly established.

“Okay, put it down,” ordered Ollie, laughing and seizing the tub and the spoons and putting them on the coffee table before turning his attention back to Tom and kissing him deeply. The taste of the gelato lingered and added to the deliciousness of the moment.

They had never been anything other than fully clothed together, so undressing was a big step and they were both intent on enjoying it. Taking their time, revelling in the frisson between them, they started to explore each other’s bodies, slowly and deliberately, moving into the bedroom as the evening moved on beyond tantalising foreplay.

“You are stunningly beautiful,” said Tom, trailing his fingers up and down Ollie’s lean figure and gazing adoringly into his eyes, thinking that he’d never been with such a beautiful man. He was not shallow and it wouldn’t have mattered if Ollie was an Armani model if he wasn’t warm and loving. Tom meant that Ollie was beautiful inside and out.

Ollie undid Tom’s hair knot, releasing the dark brown mass of curls, and plunged his fingers into it, sending a jolt of excitement rippling from his fingers through his body. He was aware of Tom’s fingers on his hips. Tom had elegant hands with long, thin fingers and the thought of these caressing his hips was undoing Ollie. He lay back on the bed and pulled Tom on top of him.

“Is this okay?” he asked. They were both already fully aroused and Ollie’s breath caught as he felt Tom against him.

“Very okay,” hummed Tom, swooning as their naked bodies touched. “Show me what you like Ollie.”

“And hope that you’ll like it too?” It was supposed to be a light reference to his answer to Tom’s question earlier that evening but it betrayed Ollie’s low confidence. Tom pushed up on his arms so that they could see each other clearly.

“Ollie, everything about you excites me. I want to make this good for you. I KNOW it’s going to be epic for me.” They stared at each other, soft smiles and sparkling eyes, and as Tom held a gentle hand to his face, Ollie felt his anxiety ebb away.

“I get good and you get epic,” he teased. “Hardly seems fair.” Tom’s face lit up hearing Ollie’s playfulness.

“Right then, my beautiful demanding man, you tell me what you like and I will make this EPIC for you.”

Later that night, they lay entangled together just at the point of sleep. Ollie was thinking that he had found something different with Tom to anything he’d had before, something simultaneously exhilarating and intensely intimate, something he could trust.

“I want you to know,” murmured Tom sleepily, “that your lover liked it.”

+++

Amanda was back at MHI.

“I don’t believe in coincidences. Noah. Meg. Jackie. They’re connected. I’m sure of it. Set up evidence boards. I want MHI to find the connection. Frankie. You’re going to lead. And that’s because Callum and Ben are too close to this as suspects in the murder of Noah.” She looked around them all and her face fell. The next bit was going to be difficult. “The Major Investigation Team are preparing to charge you both with conspiracy to murder.”

“What? When?”

“With …?”

Callum and Ben looked at each other and back at Amanda, their faces ashen with shock.

“They can’t have any evidence,” protested Callum. “We didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“It comes down to motive, means and opportunity. Your motive is revenge for Noah’s assault on Lexi. Your means is related to your connections to the criminal underworld and they think they can connect you to a known criminal in the area that evening. Opportunity is about being in a position to organise the murder. They’re not suggesting you did it yourself. They think your holiday was an attempt to give yourself an alibi. The charge is conspiracy to murder not murder.” She paused, taking in the stricken faces of Callum and Ben. “You need to call Ollie,” she advised.

Ben left the room straightaway to make the call.

+++

DCI Terri Wilcox turned up to take them in two days later.

The delay had given them some time to prepare and Kathy took the children and Robbie to stay at her house, telling them that their dads had to go away with work. Ben and Callum had prepared them by talking about an impending trip so the children were innocently happy to pack bags to stay at their Nanny’s. Kathy was beside herself with worry but Ollie reassured her that he was confident that he would get the case dismissed. He WAS confident of this - the police had no direct or circumstantial evidence to connect Callum and Ben to the murder of Noah Belasis. They had applied to hold them for ninety-six hours and this had been approved (giving Ollie some concern – did they have more evidence?) so they were going to be detained for maybe four days. Ollie was determined that then they would be coming home and he got his team to work.

However, Ollie also knew that this was a conspiracy to murder charge and Ben had convictions for serious crimes so, if he was charged, there would be no chance of bail. Callum might fare better but it wasn’t a certainty. It was imperative to get them released.

Frankie, Marcus and Charlie got to work as well. They wanted to find Meg but finding something, anything, about Jimmy Blackwell was a priority.

+++

Ben sat in his cell, knees tucked up to his chin. He missed Callum. He needed Callum. How was he going to cope if he was sent down? He knew what prison was. It was bullying. It was violence. It was rape. If he went down for conspiracy to murder, it would be a life sentence and he would miss his children growing up. Thinking about his children, tears fell down his face relentlessly. He had promised them that he was a good person. He had promised them that he was not a criminal. Would they ever believe anything he said again? Even though he was good and he was not a criminal, why would they believe him? It was a devastating thought and he didn’t think he could face carrying on if his children didn’t believe in him.

He had thought he was being kind to Noah. That bastard Eric Mitchell had it right all those years ago: kindness is a weakness - the Mitchell family motto. The aching in Ben’s chest was overwhelming and he knew it was an ache of sadness because he wanted to be kind and loving, and just when he thought he might be able to be the person he wanted to be, he was struck with this blow. No, Ben Mitchell-Highway, do not rise and be the greatest version of yourself, get down where you belong.

Somewhere along this corridor was Callum and he concentrated hard to connect with his beloved husband. He could sense his presence. Callum was tough, tougher than Ben, and Ben knew Callum wouldn’t be considering ending his life. Callum was a fighter. He could hear Callum’s voice in his head, telling him he was loved, saying how amazing he was, appreciating all the ways Ben was great, pointing out the children’s love and admiration, reminding Ben of joyous moments. _I love you Ben. I will love you for all time. You are the best person I know and my life is infinitely better for being with you._ This was what Callum would say and it was true. He took a deep breath and pictured Callum in his arms as he lay down.

+++

Callum was angry. It was a good job he was locked up in a cell because if that wasn’t the case, he would be out there hunting down the people who had done this to his family and he would fucking kill them. He paced the cell, thinking, planning and eventually laying down on the bench. There was no way he and Ben were going to prison. They had nothing to do with this. Ollie’s team and the MHI team were working solidly to sort this out, and he believed in them. Ollie was concentrating on dismissing the police case and Callum knew this was their best chance of being released. But he didn’t want Ben and him to be merely released, he wanted them to be free. Free to be the good, honest, loving people that they both were. And their best chance of this lay with the MHI team. Callum knew that Frankie, Marcus and Charlie would be looking for evidence to exonerate him and Ben.

He breathed slowly and deeply preparing himself to think about their children. His love for them was immense and he couldn’t bear the thought of being away from them. One day, he would tell them about this injustice and he knew they would be outraged that their dads had been treated like this because of their histories. He hoped they would become warriors for justice, people who would never let such a thing happen on their watch.

Finally, he allowed himself to think of Ben. He knew Ben would have descended into despair, holding on tight to his guilt for past wrongs, thinking that he was unworthy of the great love he had from Callum, his children, his mum, his family and friends. Ben had the biggest heart of anybody he knew and shared his love purely. It was why his loved ones loved him back so fiercely. Callum couldn’t bear to think of his precious husband suffering. He was nearby, Callum could feel it. It was like there were particles of Ben floating down the corridor and reaching him. He could sense his love. _I love you Callum. I will love you for all time. Our life together is and will always be the most precious thing I have._ This is what Ben would say to him and he imagined the words being whispered in his ear. He missed Ben. He needed Ben.

+++

DCI Terri Wilcox had officially made it to the top of Ollie’s most hated list. She had detained Ben and Callum and had let them stew in their cells for three days; it was downright cruel. Ollie had met with both of them and found Callum fully focused, determined and furious but Ben was not in a good way and had been barely able to speak. Ollie was relieved that there was nothing dangerous to hand; this was the Ben that would hurt himself. It was day four today and the despised DCI Terri Wilcox had to either charge them or release them. Ollie was ready. He had already demanded to know how the evidence threshold had been met and had made a lot of noise about it because he wanted these fuckers to be absolutely clear that there would be a fight.

In the end, Callum and Ben were simply released. Callum was let go first and, of course, he refused to leave the police station without Ben so Ollie sat with him in the reception area. Callum was ridiculously handsome and smiled a lot, with a huge, wide smile capable of lighting up a room. Often a little naïve, he used his optimism to filter out the dark wisps of life that tried to seep into his glowing existence. The man sitting next to Ollie was not this familiar Callum. This man was brooding, angry, with dark eyes set into a hardened face and a physical presence that loomed large, still strikingly attractive, but with a dangerous edge.

The door opened and Ben fired out like a bullet, hitting Callum squarely. Everybody who had been milling around stopped still, watching these two men hold onto each other tighter than was humanly possible. Ollie caught the sympathetic look cast by the duty sergeant. And so he should, thought Ollie. Callum and Ben had been treated appallingly. He had already filed the complaint. Callum and Ben had been released after almost four days with no explanation, no consideration. Ben was broken again and Callum was a composition of seething anger. Somebody would be answering for this.

+++

By the end of the day, DCI Terri Wilcox was called in to answer for her decisions. Her boss, the super, sat on the chair next to her, both facing ACC Neil McCarney, husband of the pathologist Ailsa who Terri could not abide. Terri and Neil had done their sergeant’s exams at the same time and Terri was convinced that his progress since then had been faster than hers because she was a woman; her resentment about this was monumental. But even bigger than this was her furious despair that she had made several passes at him, all of them rejected politely and firmly until the last one when he threatened to report her for sexual harassment.

“Tell me again DCI Wilcox, where did the new evidence come from?” asked Neil calmly.

“It was an anonymous report of an abandoned vehicle. The plate matched the car driven by Jimmy Blackwell on the night of the murder of Noah Belasis so my team was alerted. Forensics have given us a match to the carpet fibres found on the victim so we know he was in the car. A more detailed examination of the car gave us hair samples. DNA from these matches our suspects. Sir.”

“So you charged them?” Neil’s voice was steady and quiet but Terri was in no doubt that she was about to be decimated.

“We brought them in,” she replied carefully. “We had further questions sir.”

“I’m sure you did,” Neil’s voice hardened and Terri’s boss, a canny operator called John Lomax, looked up at the change. He had no intention of throwing Terri a line. She was on her own. Neil continued. “Tell me where these hair samples were found.”

“In the vehicle sir,” responded Terri, flinching as she saw that Neil was about to blow.

“Do NOT play games with me DCI Wilcox. WHERE in the vehicle?”

“In the footwell of the passenger seat and on the seat itself, sir,” she muttered. Neil glared at her.

“You CAN see the problem with that, can’t you? You think they sat there together?”

“We assumed it was two different occasions sir.” She knew this was weak. Why would Callum and Ben Mitchell-Highway have needed to meet Jimmy Blackwell at all let alone twice? They all knew these transactions were done over the dark web.

“You have relentlessly pursued these men, DCI Wilcox. Why? And I don’t want to hear anything about crimes committed years ago.”

“Their relationship with the victim sir.” Terri glanced at Neil’s desk seeing the fat file that Joe Munday had tried to share with her. Neil saw her eyes move and tapped the file.

“Yes DCI Wilcox. This is all of the evidence relating to their relationship with victim … ALL of which corroborates their story. They came to US for help. Like ordinary people, DCI Wilcox, they came to us for support with a crime that had been committed. If Noah Belasis was still alive, we would likely be charging him because the evidence against him DOES meet the threshold. Do you understand about the evidence threshold DCI Wilcox?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like you do.”

Terri stared at the file belatedly recognising that she should have reviewed it. She was a good copper and it would have put her on the right track. Instead she had chased herself into a dead end.

“So we come to the complaint made against you DCI Wilcox. The law firm Hargreaves, Fuller and Jackson have prepared this on behalf of the Mitchell-Highways. There will be an official enquiry. DCI Wilcox, I am suspending you pending the results of this enquiry.”

+++

When they arrived back at the house, Kathy was waiting for them. She and Ollie shepherded Callum and Ben into the room off the kitchen. Callum allowed himself to be pushed into a chair but Ben rejected his, crawling instead onto Callum’s lap. Kathy’s heart broke as she saw the state he was in. The anger sizzling from Callum was palpable but miraculously it sputtered around the edges of his tender care of Ben, like he had put a force shield up around them with love on the inside and rage on the outside.

“The children are good,” Kathy reassured them. “They have no idea what has been happening, so I’ll keep them for another night, give you some time to recover. A bit.” She gazed at her son wondering how much more torment he would have to take in his life. Her guilt at her own part in creating his fragile psyche surfaced and she knelt down to reach into Callum’s and Ben’s bubble. Scared, worn out eyes met hers. “I’m so sorry Ben love, my beautiful boy. You deserve so much better than this.” Ben grasped his mum’s hands, eyes full of tears. Her love was important to him.

“I’ll be okay mum. Just need a bit of time ‘s all. Thanks for looking after our babies.” Ben burrowed himself into Callum’s shoulder and Callum reached out a hand to Kathy which she clutched eagerly, bringing it to her lips to kiss.

“Thank you,” he said simply. Kathy smiled sadly and she and Ollie took their leave.

Callum lifted Ben, standing him on shaky feet.

“Bed,” he instructed. They made their way upstairs and lay on their huge bed, the room wrapped around them, looking after them. It was an uncluttered space thanks to the enormous fitted wardrobes enclosing all of their stuff and the mirrored doors doubling the size of the room. Callum could see their reflection and was struck with how small Ben looked.

“You need to be angry, babe,” he said. “You need to fight.” Ben nodded.

“I know. It would be stronger. But it’s not how I feel.”

“Noah, the police, they tried to take us away from each other and away from our children. How does that make you feel?” Callum was angry, surprising Ben who had expected him to be full of tenderness and loving words. “They pushed you, babe, to breaking point. If you’d have hurt yourself, it would hurt me, hurt our children more than there are words to explain. If you were gone, we would NOT recover. Ever.”

“I’m okay Callum,” insisted Ben quietly.

“You are now,” snarled Callum. “But what if they’d left you with a belt or some other means of finishing yourself off. What would you have done Ben?” Ben curled up in a ball realising that at least some of this anger was being directed at him.

“Please, Callum, I’m okay.”

“No Ben.” Callum was almost shouting. “I need you to fight. I want you to want to stay with me, with our children, no matter what. I need you to want that.”

“I DO want that,” Ben cried, covering his head with his arms.

“Really?” asked Callum. “Do you really?” He climbed off the bed and headed into their bathroom. Seconds later, Ben heard the shower going. He lay curled up for a few minutes then went to see what Callum was doing.

Callum was sitting on the floor of the shower, head on his knees, body shaking as he cried, hot water streaming off him. Ben stripped and went to join him, sitting next to him in the wet tray. He nudged his fingers towards Callum’s and was relieved when Callum allowed them to interlock.

“I’m sorry, babe,” murmured Ben, nestling his head on Callum’s shoulder. “I take it seriously, I do. My mental health. I said at New Year that I was going to have some more sessions with Darren. I’ll call him today.”

“I am such a shit, shouting at you like that,” mumbled Callum, his head tucked shamefully into his knees. “I was so scared. I know you Ben and I was scared sitting in that cell, not being able to look after you.”

Ben wanted to say that he could look after himself but looking back over the past few months, in fact all the time he’d known Callum, he could see that the evidence pointed at the opposite being true. Callum wasn’t angry with him, Callum was scared and Ben knew that his response to fear was to fight.

“I thought I could hear you,” he said. Callum looked up at him, eyes questioning. “I thought I could hear you telling me you loved me, that you’d always love me.” Callum swivelled round to face him.

“I said it aloud, that you were the best person I know and my life was infinitely better for having you in it,” he declared. “I thought I could hear you as well saying you loved me, that you’d always love me.”

“I said it aloud as well,” admitted Ben. “I said that our life together was the most precious thing I have.” They looked at each other appreciating the depth of their connection and Ben leaned over to kiss Callum. Callum caught him with secure hands around his ribs, holding the weight of him and lowering him gradually until they were lay back on the floor of the shower, kissing deeply. But Ben was crying and that alone started Callum off.

“Ben, baby,” he wept. “We’re gonna be okay, be happy, just not today.”

“I know,” sobbed Ben. “I am so fucking relieved to be here with you babe. It’s a lot.”

Before long they were dry and tucked up in bed, arms wrapped around each other, absorbing the comfort of their surroundings. They needed some time to feel safe and, as the day wore on, they fell asleep.

Ben woke first. The last bit of darkness lingered outside and the house was snoozing. He tried to stay still knowing that the slightest movement would stir Callum. It was windy outside. He could hear the keening moan of the breeze, the creaking branches of the tree too close to the house, the fresh new leaves rustling. Something metallic had fallen over in the garden and the erratic tinging as it was jostled by the wind was like a distress call. Sliding carefully out of Callum’s arms, he wandered over to the window to see what it was, and was unsurprised to feel those same warm arms reaching round his waist a few seconds later.

“It’s the watering can.” Callum murmured sleepily. “I was too lazy to put it away last week. I’ll run down and do it now.”

Ben watched from the window as Callum appeared in the garden, picked up the offending noisemaker and wandered down to the shed at the bottom of the garden. He was only wearing pyjamas and Ben saw him shivering involuntarily. On his way back up the path, he stopped abruptly and raised his head, obviously listening to something and then turned towards the bedroom window beckoning Ben who grabbed hoodies and went down.

As he arrived in the garden, the birds’ singing and tweeting was deafening.

“Can you hear that?” asked Callum, waving his arm at the air. “What’s going on?”

“It’s the dawn chorus,” explained Ben.

“Does that happen every day? Why have I never heard that before?” Callum was captivated by the cacophony.

“It’s about attracting a mate and then defending chicks so it’s loudest in spring.” Ben knew this from one of Lexi’s primary school projects. They had got up early especially to hear it. His mind was taken back to seven year old Lexi and he felt the familiar stab of grief that his little girl was gone for good but he let it go immediately and thought about what a wonderful young woman she was becoming.

Callum pulled on his hoodie and pulled Ben towards the little courtyard garden at the side of the house. They sat on Callum’s grandad’s bench, Ben with his legs over Callum’s thighs, arms around his middle, Callum’s arms around Ben’s shoulders pulling him close. Ben lifted his head for the kiss and Callum moved in, kissing him softly and then more deeply as Ben responded. The scent from the clematis that smothered the fence was a constant as the light changed and the wind continued its swirling and whirling, and, without knowing about the other, they both used it to ground themselves in the moment.

“Were we too kind to Noah?” asked Ben.

“Maybe,” answered Callum. He had been surprised when Ben had offered to let Noah use their spare bedroom for a nap all those weeks ago but also unsurprised. Ben had a compulsive generous streak for waifs and strays. “You’re usually more wary around people you don’t know,” he said.

“I know,” rued Ben. “Kindness is a weakness.”

“It is not,” refuted Callum. “And I know you don’t believe that.”

“Dad said it was what his dad used to say. But he also told me it was a power as well. It was when I told him about Noah. He said we needed to make sure our kindness was used powerfully.”

“Well fuck me,” exclaimed Callum. “Phil and me are gonna agree on something! There are a lot of fuckers out there who are ready to exploit generosity and kindness, but it would be sad if that stopped it.” He smiled at Ben. “Your wariness protects you. Save your kindness for people you know.” Ben nodded in agreement, although it wasn’t quite what he’d expected. This was a hardened version of Callum. Old Callum would have advocated kindness for all. Noah had taken another piece of him.

+++

“Where have they gone?” demanded Ollie, rearing his full six foot two to tower above Frankie’s five foot two. He needed to talk to Callum and Ben and was not just a little frustrated that they had disappeared. Marcus watched from the other side of the room, vaguely amused, knowing that Frankie would not ignore the physical assertion.

“Don’t stand over me like that,” snapped Frankie. Ollie took a breath and signed ‘sorry’. “They’ve gone to the beach,” answered Frankie. “Kathy is having the children for an extra night but they are coming back later. Around six they said. DS Akhtar and DS Patel are coming at four. Can you stay?”

Tom had music lessons until eight that night and Ollie was expecting to see him after that but he wondered, if this meeting ran over, would he put off Tom for Callum and Ben? Tom was on his mind almost constantly, revisiting their last moments together, imagining their next moments together – it was as though every over-used song lyric about falling in love had been written for him. But he knew Ben and Callum needed him now and he also knew Tom would understand.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Right, let’s go through what you have.”

Frankie, Marcus and Charlie had been busy. They had finally tracked down Jimmy Blackwell or somebody they were fairly certain was him.

“He’s around,” said Marcus. “Whoever this is, he’s around here. We have him at these locations.” He pointed them out on a map on one of the screens. “So DS Akhtar got us CCTV from around these places. We’ve just finished going through it all. Only one person turns up in all of them.” He pointed at another screen which displayed a photo from each location.

“Is it Jimmy Blackwell?” asked Ollie. Everybody shrugged. Frankie indicated a police booking photograph of a man on yet another screen.

“Maybe?” she responded. Ollie looked between the photographs. It wasn’t altogether clear that the location photographs were of the same person let alone comparing them with his mug shot.

“Explain to me how you know these are the same man.”

“Charlie has analysed body measurements. They are the same. But watch …” Marcus clicked on the first location photograph which was in fact a still from a video. He repeated this for each photograph.

“Okay, I see it,” observed Ollie. “A slightly uneven gait, yes?”

“It’s more than that.” Charlie spoke up from his monitor. “Length of stride, the out-turn of his left foot, the swing of his left arm being more prominent than his right, the tilt of his head. I’ve compared this to over two hundred other people from the CCTV recordings. It is him.”

“Look at this,” said Frankie, loading another video. Amanda and Ben walked down the screen , talking animatedly, followed by Callum and Steve, arms around each other, then followed by Jimmy Blackwell.

“Shit, he followed them,” exclaimed Ollie.

“Yeah,” confirmed Marcus.

“So what’s next?” asked Ollie and caught a look pass between the MHI team. “DSs Akhtar and Patel are not here yet and I don’t care what you’ve done.”

“Telephone records. We’re going to suggest to DS Akhtar gets these so it’s above board but we do already have them.” Frankie watched Ollie for his reaction. They had thought this hack might have annoyed him but he seemed okay with it. “We have a call made to Debs Tomsett when Jimmy Blackwell was in the area. She’s an associate of Jackie Highway. So we looked at all of the calls made from that number. They were made from these areas.” Ollie looked at the map and saw that it now had a number of overlapping areas highlighted. All of Jimmy Blackwell’s locations sat in these areas. “You can see why we think he’s around?” said Frankie.

“And you know Debs Tomsett’s number … how?” Ollie almost laughed at the shifty looks of all of them. “Okay, leave that. I feel that the case you’re making is that Jackie had something to do with hiring Jimmy Blackwell to kill Noah. So Callum could have told her, or she has eyes on the ground …”

“Or Meg told her,” interjected Frankie.

“We can’t find Meg,” said Charlie. “But we’re hoping she might be keeping an eye on us so we have … left out some breadcrumbs. We’re hoping she’ll get in touch.”

“We can ask Callum. If it’s not Callum or Meg, the only way Jackie could know about Noah is from her own spies,” explained Marcus and then he, Charlie and Frankie looked at Ollie expectantly, giving him the distinct impression he was supposed to be joining dots. He’d always been good at puzzles.

“Ah, the only people who knew about Callum’s and Ben’s problems with Noah are in this room or … work at the police station.” Their faces confirmed he had drawn the correct lines. “So,” he added, to be perfectly clear about what they were alleging, “Jackie has moles in the police force, that’s what you’re suggesting? We’re gambling that DSs Akhtar and Patel aren’t them?” asked Ollie.

“Well, not so much a gamble,” said Frankie looking at Charlie.

“We’ve checked them,” explained Charlie. Ollie decided he didn’t need to know what this had entailed and instead moved onto giving them all an update on Callum’s and Ben’s arrest.

“It doesn’t mean they are in the clear,” he clarified. “DCI Wilcox has been suspended as a result of the complaint my firm has submitted. We’re alleging harassment, including homophobic harassment. But the case remains open. Their best chance is for Jimmy Blackwell to be found and for him to say that Ben and Callum had nothing to do with it. However, we now know their hair was found in his vehicle. Initial forensics point to Jimmy, or somebody else, having planted it. But my question is where did he get it? Hair samples with follicles attached? Where did he get those?”

Ollie looked back at the map, noting that Callum’s and Ben’s house was in the overlapping shaded area. Frankie followed his gaze and saw what he was thinking.

“He’s been here? In the house?” She quickly moved to the computer and pulled up the recordings from the cameras from around the house. “This is going to take a while,” she said, allocating sections to Charlie and Marcus to review before turning to Ollie. “You could make teas.”

So Ollie found himself, successful criminal defence lawyer, soon to be associate professor of criminology at the University of East London (if all went well), as tea maker for a bunch of PIs.

+++

By the time Callum and Ben returned, progress had been made. Their team, Ollie, Adam and Manish (both insisting on first names while they were acting in an unofficial capacity) were in the office. Also present was Joe Munday. Frankie had asked Adam and Manish if there was anybody that could be trusted on the team investigating Noah’s murder and Ollie was pleased that they had brought Joe as he had found him to be the most open-minded member of that team.

The MHI crew had found a clear recording of the man they thought was Jimmy Blackwell picking the back door lock and letting himself into the house.

“He’s as good as you,” said Frankie to Ben as they watched the video. Ben, Callum and Ollie all shot her a ‘shut up in front of the cops’ look. She kicked herself mentally.

“We don’t know what he did in the house though,” argued Callum.

“We do,” said Frankie, forwarding the video on to Jimmy leaving the house carrying a clear plastic bag. “If we enhance this, I’m guessing this bag contains your hair. Did you manage to do that, Charlie?”

“Yes,” confirmed Charlie as another screen came alive showing a close up of the bag.

“Let my team do some digging into Jimmy Blackwell,” suggested Ollie. “See if we can unearth any associates.” Callum and Ben both glanced at him gratefully. They’d been considering asking him to do this and were relieved that his offer meant they hadn’t had to go that far.

Joe logged onto the police system to officially request telephone records for the locations where Jimmy had been seen and promised to send these on as soon as he had them. He was excited that this might provide a breakthrough. Frankie smiled sweetly at his enthusiasm.

Then the discussion moved onto Meg. She was hiding herself effectively and none of them had any clues about where she might be although, as their discussion progressed, they realised that nobody had checked the train and tube CCTV for Meg dressed in her fat suit and wig.

“I should have thought of that,” Manish castigated himself. “Her bag wasn’t big enough to hold the suit but she could easily have had a wig in it. The guards searching her bag wouldn’t have thought anything about it.”

“What about linking her to Jackie?” asked Adam. Frankie shook her head. “Nothing?” Frankie shook her head again and Adam frowned as he experienced a whispering niggle that MHI were more intent on saving Meg than finding her. He wanted there to be more trust in their relationship so decided to offer them something he hadn’t been intending to share. “We’ve been following Debs Tomsett. She mentioned Meg obliquely.” That had everybody’s attention. The MHI team weren’t going to let on yet that she had emerged in their investigation as well but they knew this was an important link.

“Tell us more,” said Ben. Adam was happy to share.

“We have her talking about getting rid of Tracye. She never calls her Meg. Says she’s not needed any more. Talks about somebody called Iren taking over. We have multiple mentions of Iren popping up but have yet to identify her. All help appreciated Charlie,” he called out. Charlie flashed a thumbs up emoji on his screen.

“Your working theory?” asked Ollie, knowing of old that this was how the police hunted.

“Meg built something for Jackie. We’re thinking under duress. Meg asked to be released, telling Jackie she was ill. Jackie told her she didn’t give a shit. Meg ran.”

“Something? What’s your working theory about the something?” Ollie redefined his question, frustrated with the lack of specifics.

“Sex for sale, slaves for sale maybe. Jackie has always been about people.”

“Meg wouldn’t have done it,” refuted Frankie assuredly. “She would have done her disappearing act as soon as they asked her.”

“That’s true,” agreed Charlie. “Meg would never have done that. That was done to her.” Adam looked at them and was inclined to take their word for it. Frankie and Charlie knew Meg best. If they thought this would have been a line that Meg would not have crossed, then they were probably right.

“Our other theory is money-laundering,” he offered. “Meg wanted Julie Golding out of business and we believe Julie had taken over Phil’s money-laundering role. So was it that Jackie wanted control of that and she had Meg help her with that?” He could tell from their faces that they thought this was more likely.

The discussion went on, backwards and forwards trying to untangle the threads. In the end, Frankie called a halt.

“Marcus and I have an event starting at eight, so we’re off. Charlie and me will follow up on money-laundering and Meg. We’ll liaise with Adam. Joe you’ll get the phone records for the shaded areas on the map and follow upon matching all of our shots of Jimmy Blackwell to his mug shot. Ollie, you’re looking into Jimmy’s associates. Manish, you’re going to check the train and tube CCTV again for Meg in disguise.” She paused. It was a lot of talking for her but she was enjoying being the lead. “And all of you are going to have your eyes open for possible police spies for Jackie,” she added. Adam, Manish and Joe looked decidedly uncertain about the last command but they weren’t about to argue with Frankie.

“I’m going as well.” Adam was a devoted family man and looked forward to going home at the end of the day. Although he often found it difficult to admit it in front of his police colleagues, it was easy around this crowd. They all thought more of him for wanting to get home to his wife and babies.

Charlie had already gone. A goodbye message sat on his screen.

“What’re you up to Ols?” asked Callum. “I’m cooking if you want to stay. Invite Tom if you like.” He looked at the other two police officers. More police friends was always a good idea. “Manish, Joe, you too if you like.” He had another motive. The children were home tomorrow and he needed Ben to become at least a bit more normal. Ben had enjoyed the beach and the blowy weather. He’d worn his shy smile reserved only for Callum and they’d held hands constantly as they walked for hours, eventually finding a private spot and making out like randy kids. It had been a lovely day and Ben had talked about Callum cooking and inviting Ollie and Tom. Then he’d said, “Who am I kiddin’ actin’ like everything is ticketyboo?” and Callum had known Ben was feeling low.

“I’ll text Tom,” said Ollie, getting his phone out and rapidly typing a message. Manish raised his eyebrows at Joe and Joe nodded in return.

“Thanks, that’d be great,” replied Manish.

“How did you know we’re together?” asked Joe, as they followed Callum towards the kitchen.

“Are you?” asked Callum, surprised. “I had no idea.” Ben laughed. He had picked up that there was something between them but Callum was not as observant, especially when it came to people in an official capacity. He would definitely have been the kind of kid that thought his teachers lived at the school, thought Ben.

“I could tell,” he said smiling. “You glance at each other. A lot. Probably not as much as me and Callum but we’re ridiculous. We know that.” He pulled Callum in for a sweet kiss.

“It’s true,” confirmed Ollie. “When we’re out, they have to be reminded that they’re with other people.”

“You’re all friends?” asked Joe, wrapping an arm around Manish’s waist, enjoying the friendly domestic atmosphere. It wasn’t something they often experienced as they mainly liked to go out and make the most of the London gay scene. Minus the drugs. They were police officers after all.

“BEST friends,” claimed Ben. “Ollie recently got himself a new boyfriend, Tom, thanks to me.”

“Ben!” admonished Callum as Ollie laughed. “Ollie did the legwork himself. Is he coming, Ollie?”

“Yes,” replied Ollie after checking his phone. “He’s just finished a lesson three doors down. Shall I go and let him in?” Ben nodded and Ollie left for the front door.

“Tom teaches guitar and piano,” Ben explained to Manish and Tom.

A minute or so later Ollie came back into the kitchen with Tom. Ben and Callum had seen them together in the pub and down at The Albert but seeing them in a home setting would be more revealing; they were very curious about how the relationship was developing. One look confirmed it for them: Tom and Ollie had fallen head over heels for each other.

It was a fun evening. Ben suspected that Joe and Manish were in the habit of going to lively parties and fashionable clubs but they didn’t seem at all bored. Ollie was fun, quick-witted and generous as always and Tom had a way of being comfortable in his own skin that was extremely appealing. Ben was delighted to see how taken he was with Ollie. Callum, just about always the most handsome person in the room, looked amazing tonight and Ben had to make a conscious effort not to think about undressing him later. By the time everybody left, Ben was pleasantly inebriated. He set about the clearing up surprising Callum with his willingness.

“Okay, so this is unusual. Since when do you happily clear up?”

“You’re not going to let us go to bed leaving the kitchen like this and I,” Ben turned and looked saucily at Callum, “I want to go to bed.” Callum decided to help.

Later, across the pillows, Callum reached to stroke Ben’s face.

“Are we ready to reset?” he asked gently. Ben nodded into his hand.

+++

Ollie and Tom had fallen in love but hadn’t fully admitted it to themselves let alone told each other. The stakes were high – they were both hoping that this relationship was going to go the distance – so they were trying to take things steadily and both were trying hard not to get ahead of themselves, without being aware that the other felt exactly the same. They had spent the bank holiday weekend with Tom’s family on their farm in County Durham and Ollie was touched by how excited Tom had been about introducing him to his family - almost as excited as Tom’s family had been to meet him. It had been a wonderful visit. Tom knew Ollie’s family might not be as welcoming and had been reassuringly unbothered but Ollie decided he was going to speak to his dad about him and Tom. It was important and he had some other issues to raise anyway.

George Hargreaves was an imposing man. He was six foot tall so two inches shorter than both of his sons but that was definitely not the impression people were left with when they met the three of them. Both Ollie and his older brother Lucas worked for Hargreaves, Fuller and Jackson. George was about to retire and Lucas was about to become a partner. There had been an argument about reordering the names in the name of the firm but it had been lost. Lucas Hargreaves was to be a partner and the name of the firm was to remain Hargreaves, Fuller and Jackson. He was pleased with that outcome.

This morning, George, Lucas and Oliver (as he was known by his family) were meeting for an early breakfast. Tom had had a late gig the previous night so Ollie had left him sleeping. As always, he arrived first. It didn’t seem to matter how late he was, he was always a couple of minutes earlier than his dad and his brother who always arrived together. In his more paranoid moments, he was convinced they lay in wait, watching him arrive.

This time however, Lucas arrived first saying that George had needed to visit the toilet on his way into the restaurant.

“You’re looking well, Oliver,” said George when he eventually arrived, glancing at Lucas and, in doing this, alerting Ollie to the fact that this was a pre-prepared discussion. “Happy.” They both looked at Ollie.

“I’ve met someone,” admitted Ollie, partly relieved they were going straight into THE conversation. “Someone I like a lot. He likes me. We’re good together.”

“He?” asked George. His expression was unchanged.

“Dad, you know I’m gay, you do.” Ollie kept a steady gaze on his dad. “I know you never wanted to meet Johnny but I want it to be different with Tom.”

“Tom?” asked George. “A white boy.” Since when had Tom been an exclusively white name? thought Ollie exasperatedly. And wasn’t Oliver the whitest name ever? Or was that George?

“Yes he’s white, dad,” he said, mustering his patience. “Not a boy. He’s forty. He’s important to me.”

He knew Lucas and his sisters were perfectly fine about him being gay but that didn’t mean he was welcome to bring his boyfriends to their houses. George had to approve before that happened. So maybe they weren’t as fine as they liked to make out?

“Are you living with him in your new flat?”

Ollie’s mum and dad had been over for Sunday lunch the weekend before Ollie had met Tom. It had been nice to show them his new home and they had had a lovely time. If he lived there with Tom, did that mean they would never come again?

“Not yet. We’ve only been together a few weeks. But I think it will happen.” He asked his question. “Will you come over if he’s living with me?”

George looked at him for a long moment but didn’t answer.

“I love my family,” pleaded Ollie. “I don’t want to be estranged from you all. I want to share my happiness with you. Tom’s a wonderful person, someone you would all like. You would, I know you would.”

George was still silent. Ollie was familiar with reading people and he could see his dad’s conflict: he believed it was unnatural to be gay and he dearly loved his gay son.

“Your mum and I have talked about it,” his dad said finally. Ollie held his breath and glanced at Lucas who was smiling. Was that a good sign? George carried on. “We don’t understand it. The way we think about humankind, it is unnatural.” Ollie’s heart sank. It was this that he found the hardest thing. “No boy,” said his dad, tipping his chin. “Don’t you be getting the wrong idea. We don’t understand it but we do understand that it is real for you. And we don’t want you to be estranged from us. So …” he pursed his lips and nodded as if to say ‘that’s that’.

Ollie could scarcely breathe let alone eat breakfast. His parents had (almost) accepted that he was gay. It was momentous. George moved straight on to talk about work matters as though it was a small thing, soon after leaving the table to visit the toilet. Ollie looked at Lucas.

“The toilet? Again?” He looked at his brother enquiringly.

“Yeah, I know,” acknowledged Lucas, frowning at the receding figure of their dad. “Need to keep an eye on him.” He leaned forward and looked directly at Ollie. “They don’t want to lose you. That’s the only reason they’re trying to get their heads round it. Don’t rub their faces in it.”

“Rub their faces in it? What do you think I’d be doing?” Ollie was annoyed. Lucas often pushed him to irritation. “I’m not the one who is being offensive. How do you think it makes me feel to be labelled ‘unnatural’?”

“Ol, come on, I’m not having a go. I’m looking forward to meeting this Tom who’s got my little bro so smitten.” He smiled at Ollie, genuinely caring. “Bring him to dinner; don’t molest him at the table. You know the form.”

“I want to leave the firm Lucas.” It was an abrupt change of subject but Ollie knew his dad would be back any minute and wanted to see what his brother thought first. Being a little riled up helped him find the courage.

“Dad and I have picked up on that you know,” advised Lucas, a hint of a smile playing with his mouth. “We know you have issues with our big clients. He was thinking you might raise it today so just be straight about it. It’ll be alright.” He held up a fist to bump Ollie’s and Ollie completed the action. Lucas and he were close and had been bumping fists all their lives.

When George returned, Ollie counted to ten in his head, breathed deeply and managed to suppress his anxiety. “You know I’ve been offered the associate professorship at UEL?” he began in his bravest voice. “I won’t be able to do as much work for the firm so I’ll need to step back from the big cases, the big clients, and … I don’t want to be connected to some of the people we represent. They’re despicable and I can’t do it any longer.”

George’s expression changed at this and, seeing his disappointment, Ollie almost took it all back.

“They are despicable,” George agreed sadly. “But everybody has a right to a defence. Don’t condemn the representation.”

“I’m not. It’s me, my own sensibilities. But I do want to be a defence lawyer,” insisted Ollie, “just not for organised crime. I’m thinking I might set up on my own.”

“No you won’t,” said George unequivocally. Ollie dropped his head and sighed inside wondering why he was always expected to kowtow to his dad but the old codger was about to surprise him. “If you’re happy with the arrangement, you and I will set up together. Between us, we might just about manage full-time.” Ollie’s head snapped up at the offer and Lucas laughed aloud.

“I take it that’s a yes,” he smiled.

“Yes it’s a yes,” stated Ollie, grinning at his dad.

Ollie went straight home after the breakfast hoping desperately that Tom was still there. He wanted to share this with him as soon as possible.

While Ollie was out, Tom was worried. Ollie had told him that he was going to tell his dad and brother that he was with Tom AND that he wanted to leave the firm. Two very big deals. Was it too early for Ollie to be telling his family about Tom, especially as it seemed that they would not be very happy to hear the news? He and Ollie had fallen for each other, he was certain of that, but it had only been a few weeks and they were trying to take it steadily. Why though? he wondered, thinking that they both knew already that this was long term.

Ollie burst through the front door and Tom saw immediately that things had gone well. Ollie seized his face and kissed him, his excitement spilling over.

“So it went well?” Tom smiled. Ollie nodded.

“It wasn’t perfect. They’re still holding onto that Leviticus shite, but they want to try. We might need to feed us to them slowly, build up their tolerance, but they do, they want to try. It’s huge Tom. I think maybe I thought they would never get there. I want them to know you, to see how much we …” he stopped abruptly, biting off the over-excited words he had been about to utter. Tom looked at him inquisitively.

“Say it,” he urged softly. Ollie looked into his eyes, as always glowing with warmth.

“How much we love each other,” he said, the words forming easily and spoken for both of them.

“We do,” confirmed Tom, shivers tingling all over his skin. “I can feel it.” He grounded his palms against Ollie’s chest, as his heart swelled and dizzy elation took over. He’d been in love before but this time it felt particularly incredible. “Of course there’s the infatuation and irrepressible lust of something new,” he smiled at Ollie, knowing they were both aware of this, “but there’s something deeper, a connection, a hopefulness that catches my breath, a desire to be with you, to know you.”

“I keep telling myself that it’s only been eight weeks, that I mustn’t get ahead of myself,” confessed Ollie, “but I feel so sure.” He gazed lovingly at the man in front of him, knowing with absolute certainty that this was the man he wanted to grow old with.

“I was thinking this earlier while you were out,” admitted Tom. “Thinking that we’re determined to be grown-ups, to take things steadily, but why? Why not just go for it, believe in our instincts, build a life together? If it all crashes and burns, at least we’ll know that we have guts.”

“Yes!” exclaimed Ollie, the word infused with certainty. “Move in with me. Today.” Tom’s smile shone from his whole face.

“Okay, this is it,” he grinned. Ollie was perfect for him, he was perfect for Ollie and he was positive that this was exactly the right decision for them.

“But first,” murmured Ollie, pulling him close and burying his nose in his unruly curls, “I have some irrepressible lust to deal with.” Tom pulled him towards their bedroom.


	5. One thing doesn't always lead to another

“This time I’m not telling anyone,” insisted Whitney. “Not until twenty weeks.” She wanted to be happy but, in truth, all she felt was scared. What if she lost this baby as well? Stuart felt the opposite. He had delight bubbling through his veins and he could have laughed loud and long for everybody to hear. For some reason he was certain that this pregnancy would be fine. Not only that, he was certain the baby was a boy. But he had to keep his excitement under wraps. His purpose was to look after Whitney and make sure she was alright.

“It’s okay to tell people after thirteen weeks, isn’t it?” he suggested tentatively. “And this is your second period missed isn’t it? So how many weeks is that?” Whitney had done a pregnancy test after missing her period last month; in fact, she’d done four and then had refused to believe them, even though she felt increasingly sick with each passing day. A second missed period and another four positive tests seemed to be convincing her.

“I’m nine weeks,” she said. “I mean it Stu, we’re not tellin’ anyone until I’ve had the big scan. Twenty weeks. An’ I’m not puttin’ my life on hold like last time. I’m carryin’ on with the stall and my range for the autumn.” Stuart looked at her fierce face and the fear reflected in her beautiful big eyes and was overwhelmed with pride and love.

“You are the most beautiful, amazing woman,” he stated, a huge grin lighting up his face. “I’m the luckiest bloke alive to be wiv you.”

“Don’t be daft,” she said, on the surface dismissing the compliment but actually catching it with both hands and holding it to her heart. Stuart’s love and dedication to her happiness made her feel special and safe. Without it, she knew she would be adrift.

“I’m calling it,” said Stuart impetuously. “We’re ‘avin’ a boy.” Whitney’s superstitious mind instantly jumped to an accusation that he might be jinxing the pregnancy but she suppressed the negative thought.

“Oh, yeah,” she smiled. “Got names picked out, ‘ave ya?” She caught a guilty look on his face and stopped him in his tracks. “No, Stu. No names, no buyin’ anythin’, no nursery planning. Not until twenty weeks.”

+++

The small white stick in her hand showed it clearly. Pregnant. She held it out for Richard to see. He looked at her uncertain of how she expected him to behave.

“I … er … I don’t … I used a condom? Always, yeah?”

The implicit question marks said it all for Louise. She had been enjoying her fling with Richard but she was under no illusions that this was love. She was not in love with him and he was not in love with her. And he didn’t want to be a dad.

“I want to be a dad,” he said, surprising her. “I suppose I thought it would happen when I planned it, with a partner I mean, planned it with a partner. But this,” he tilted her head towards him, fingers gently on her chin, “is not a bad thing Lou.”

“Baby number two at twenty-two. Not what I planned,” she said morosely. Richard stroked her hair. He’d been here before and he knew what not to say. Under no circumstances should he mention the word ‘termination’.

“I’m not terminating this pregnancy,” she said. “I know I can’t. But when I make that choice, it doesn’t give you a choice so I want you to know that I don’t expect you to be a part of this baby’s life.”

“You have my baby, they’re part of my life,” he stated, “and I will want to be part of their life.”

Louise heard the commitment to the baby. It didn’t extend to her. Not that she wanted it to necessarily but it felt like she was definitely temporary, if not already consigned to the past.

“It doesn’t mean it’s the end of us Lou, does it?” She looked up, surprised at Richard’s question. He was unnervingly in her head. “We’ve only been seeing each other for what, a couple of months? We’re still figuring each other out, aren’t we?” he continued.

She nodded.

“So, we keep going, is that what you want? We have this baby and see where we are, yeah? No pressure,” he said, softly kissing her lips. He looked anxiously into her eyes and saw anxiety staring straight back at him. “Keep going, yeah?” he repeated. She nodded still unsure if they wanted to be together. It was hard to tell.

+++

Bonny and Miles absolutely wanted to be together and were completely absorbed with each other to the point where Lexi was feeling very excluded. Lily was also being left out as her friends closed ranks and no longer admitted her into the fold. But it was worse than that. As a member of that popular clique, all sorts of other people had been interested in being her friend. Hanging out with Lexi had the opposite effect so, for the moment, they only had each other. Today they were lying on the grass in the corner of the school field trying to keep away from their peers. It was just easier.

“Maybe Harry felt like this when Ron and Hermione got together,” Lexi commented to Lily.

“What, you fancy Miles?” asked Lily, incredulously.

“What? No!” stated Lexi firmly. “How did you get there from Harry Potter?”

“Harry fancied Hermione,” explained Lily.

“There speaks someone who’s only seen the films. He did not,” refuted Lexi snootily.

“Or maybe it was that Hermione fancied Harry,” mused Lily, ignoring Lexi’s claim to superior knowledge. “Hard to know.” Lexi stared at her disbelievingly and decided to change the subject.

“My dads have asked me about a birthday party. I mean, they know it wouldn’t be a party, they know I’m not ten, but they’re wondering if I want to do something with some friends.”

“What’s wrong with that?” asked Lily. “We could have a joint one. My birthday’s ten days after yours.” Lexi pushed herself up onto her elbows and looked at Lily.

“Who would we invite? We haven’t got any friends,” she pointed out.

“Hmm, true,” agreed Lily. “Maybe we should go for a spa day, or a photoshoot?” Lexi looked at her in horror and was about to say something cutting when it occurred to her that these might be activities that would appeal to Lily and maybe she should be a bit less judgemental.

“Not my kind of thing but if they’re yours, I’d come with you,” she offered, feeling pleased with her magnanimity. Lily raised her eyebrows.

“Judgy, much?” Seeing Lexi’s crestfallen face, she relented. “Thank you … really. But let’s find something we’d both like.”

They spent the rest of lunchtime discussing increasingly outlandish and spectacular options and by the time they returned to class, they were feeling upbeat. It didn’t last for long.

“You’ve got grass in your hair,” noticed Caitlin. “Both of you.”

“Lying in the grass together, eh?” snorted Harry, an unpleasant and loud boy. Suddenly, everybody’s attention was on them. “ROLLING around in the grass together?” guffawed Harry, carrying on with the teasing.

“Maybe we were just lying on the grass enjoying the sunny weather. It’s a normal thing to do,” suggested Lily. Lexi ignored them all and went to sit at her table.

“Yeah, we get that,” said Molly. “But you were together, right?” She turned to the other girls, her eyes bright with assumption. “It all makes sense now. Lily’s a lesbian and none of us are … so she had to go for Lexi. That’s why she’s hanging around her.”

“I am NOT hanging around Lexi because I fancy her,” protested Lily. “And we were just lying on the grass.”

“Yeah, together!” chorused her tormentors. Lily glanced across at Lexi annoyed that she hadn’t tried to defend herself, that she hadn’t tried to defend Lily. She could be so infuriating.

“Shut up you tossers!” Lily shouted angrily, belligerently staring them down whilst becoming suddenly aware that they were all looking behind her.

“Lily Kulogowski. Out!” barked the teacher, Mr Khura (Callum’s and Ben’s friend Amit). He was a little surprised as he had just been having a conversation with a colleague about Lily and how Lexi seemed to be a good influence on her. He knew Lily a little from outside school and knew there was more to her than her school persona. “I will come and speak to you in a minute.” He glared at the rest of the class who hurriedly got into their seats. Putting a quick review quiz of the topic up on the board, he stepped out to talk to Lily.

“Okay Lily. Let’s hear it,” he said, leaning on the doorframe making sure he could see what was going on.

“Lexi and me were lying on the field at lunchtime sir. Talking. But ‘cause we’ve got grass in our hair, people were saying …”

A barely audible ‘todger dodger’ came from the classroom. Amit was no pushover and he knew who’d said it. He found it deeply depressing that this was coming from a year eight class. Surely they were too young for all of this?

“Harry Elliott. Out! Okay Lily, I’ll deal with this. Are you alright?” Lily nodded and went back into class. What else could she do? Mr Khura would never stop the likes of Harry. Teachers always thought they could sort things out but could they? Harry was already on report so he was sent straight down to see the head of year. That wouldn’t stop him either.

Lily sighed as she crossed the room taking care not to look at the mean girls and sat down next to Lexi.

“You know that’s it now don’t you?” she moaned. “No matter what we do or say, we’re lesbians.”

“We are what we are. It doesn’t matter what they say,” argued Lexi.

“Yeah, I know that!” exclaimed Lily exasperated. “But it means …” she tailed off wondering what it meant. Those girls already weren’t her friends and she knew she liked boys. What difference did it make to her? The thing was that she hated being an outsider. It was different for Lexi because she didn’t care.

Lily was wrong about Lexi. Lexi was tired of being an outsider. It would be so much easier to fit in so she contemplated what she would have to do to make that happen. Ditch Lily? Simper around the likes of Krishi and Molly? Go out with a boy? She’d never actually fancied anybody, not even a crush, so it all seemed a little ridiculous.

“Are you still my friend?” she whispered to Lily later in the lesson. They hadn’t spoken at all since Lily had snapped and Lexi was feeling isolated and upset.

“They are ALL tossers. Except for you. You’re my best friend,” Lily whispered back. It was exactly what Lexi needed to hear.

At the end of the lesson, Bonny and Miles turned round from their table in front of Lexi and Lily.

“So you two are a thing?” asked Miles.

“Would that be okay with you? We’d be able to go on double dates and you might actually talk to us?” Lexi had been bottling her resentment that Bonny and Miles had not been talking to her and she was about to serve it to them chilled.

“What?” Miles was confused.

“You got with Bonny and you both stopped talking to Lexi,” Lily explained.

“No, we didn’t,” argued Bonny.

“YES you did!” shouted Lexi, furious at herself more than anyone else because she could feel tears coming. Miles and Bonny stared at her, confused at the allegation but mainly dismayed to see her so upset.

“Okay,” said Miles tentatively. “You’re angry with us. You want us to talk to you more. We can do that.”

“Actually Miles,” complained Lexi. “I’d rather you didn’t come as we/us. You talk for yourself and Bonny can talk for herself. Like you used to. Why has going out with each other changed that?”

“Okay, got it,” said Miles nervously. “You’re one of my best friends Lexi. I don’t want us to fall out.”

“Mine too,” agreed Bonny. “I’m sorry Lexi.” She put her arms around Lexi for a hug and Miles joined in.

“Oh, can I join in?” asked Lily, joining in anyway.

“Well seeing as you’re our best friend’s girlfriend,” said Bonny. Lexi and Lily stood back immediately.

“We’re NOT together!” they protested in unison.

+++

The news team started to meet twice weekly, one of those meetings being a discussion group and not supervised by a teacher. Kaffi had instigated these discussions as a way of getting to know Lexi more; she was surprisingly resistant to his attention and he was keen to engineer an invitation to her house to meet her infamous dads. The year tens quickly lost interest in these meetings so it was usually just Kaffi, Kojo, Jack and Luke Shaw, Lexi and Lily. When the subject of birthdays arose and Kaffi discovered that Lexi’s and Lily’s were coming up, he decided Lexi needed to host a party.

“I don’t mean one of those awful affairs where all the cishet white girls parade like livestock at a farmer’s market to be selected for impregnation by a cishet white boy … what?” He stopped, seeing an outraged look on Kojo’s face.

“Shut up, Kaff,” said Kojo, despairing once again of his friend’s commentary. He loved him but he really was too much sometimes.

“Have you ever been to a party like that, Kaffi?” asked Luke Shaw (a veteran party-goer himself - or so he liked to think). “Or a farmer’s market even?”

“No,” confirmed Kaffi, “but I KNOW they exist. The parties AND the markets.” Lexi couldn’t help but laugh at him. For somebody who paraded around as a caricature of himself, he was surprisingly authentic.

“Have you been to any party, Kaffi? Like of someone in your year group?” questioned Jack Shaw.

“Well, now you ask, Jack darling, it seems that is missing from my cv.” Kaffi leered lasciviously at Jack. “Always happy to be your plus one.” Jack giggled. He thought Kaffi was a hoot.

“You’re full of shit Kaffi. But I am more than happy to take you to a party … not as a date,” he clarified, seeing Kaffi’s eyes widen with delight. “And, in future, I’d prefer it if you didn’t call me darling.”

“Kojo darling,” whinged Kaffi, looking forlorn, “you’re the only one who’ll allow it.” He caught the look on Kojo’s face, “Et tu Brute?” he croaked and faked a death making them all laugh even harder (although only Kojo got the reference).

Lexi was feeling relieved. The last thing she wanted was a load of year nines piling into her house for a party. She wasn’t completely naïve. She had eavesdropped on enough conversations about year eight parties to know there was likely to be sneaked alcohol and lots of snogging and fumbling. It could only be more for year nines. Maybe it would be good to get her dads’ perspective on all of this.

“Our birthdays are already planned,” advised Lily, finding a way out for Lexi. “We’re going to the Rainbow Festival with our families.”

Good to know, thought Kaffi, resolving to get him and Kojo some tickets.

+++

It was time to visit Phil again and Callum and Ben decided they would go together. His visits had recently been increased which was useful as Louise had started going, taking turns with Sharon and Ben.

The spring weather, as so often in England, was simply stunning, the temperature balmy and the sun bright.

Callum was sitting back in his seat enjoying the sky. Motoring with Ben always felt good. Today they had the top down and there was a glorious sense of freedom. They were trying not to think too much about the cases involving Noah, Meg and Jackie. Ollie had advised them to leave it to him to look after their defence and to let Frankie lead the investigation.

“She doesn’t need your help. You concentrate on your paid work and she’ll update you weekly. Maybe fortnightly. It’s going to take some time,” he’d said. So Callum and Ben had been doing lots of butters and lolos, the business account was looking much healthier and they were starting to feel more like themselves. Driving with the top down today enhanced that. Lost in their own thoughts for a while, they came back together with soft smiles across the car.

“What were you thinking about?” asked Callum.

“Lots of things. Louise a bit. She seems a bit preoccupied, have you noticed?” Ben’s real opinion was that Louise was being downright strange. “I think it’s going alright with Richard. Mum says he’s round there quite a bit.” He laughed. “She’s there twitching her curtains, becoming that nosy old lady down the street.”

“I wouldn’t let her catch you callin’ her old,” advised Callum. “Anyway, what is she? Fifty-three? Fifty-four? ‘S not old.”

“What were you thinking about? I saw you smiling.” Ben was hoping for compliments but was to be disappointed.

“Our new kitchen. Is it boring that it brings me so much pleasure? It looks good, don’t you think?”

“Oh,” sulked Ben. “Yeah, the kitchen is great.”

“Do you think we got the size of the island right?”

“It’s just right, babe.”

“And there’s enough storage?”

“Yeah, it’s perfect.”

“And it doesn’t block the view of the garden?”

Ben looked at Callum suspiciously. “You’re winding me up, aren’t you?”

Callum laughed easily. “You’re a gift, babe,” he chuckled as Ben huffed.

“So what were you really thinking about?” Ben asked again, wondering if maybe the smiling had been about him all along.

“You of course,” conceded Callum but he had the devil in him and decided to continue his mission to wind up Ben. “You look particularly sexy today, babe. I like you in that dark red tee-shirt. And the leather jacket, it’s always good. The tight jeans. Hmm-mmm. And from the side I can see your bottom lip and all I can think of is kissing it, which then brings me back to the tight jeans … where are we going?”

Ben drove down the country lanes looking for a fairly private place to park. Now that lips and kissing had been mentioned, it was all he wanted to do. Tucking the car behind some thick shrubs at the side of a field, he undid his seatbelt and climbed across to sit on Callum.

“This lip?” he asked, pushing it against Callum’s bottom lip. Callum sucked the lip between his, causing Ben to moan. He knew Ben liked this and snaked his tongue behind his teeth, catching him by surprise, making him gasp before he responded and crashed his lips into Callum’s. It was frantic and fun and before long they were giggling and kissing and rubbing their erections into each other. There wasn’t much room for anything else and they were aware of a farmer driving his tractor down the field next to them. It wouldn’t be long before he spotted them. Ben reluctantly climbed back into his own seat and threw his head back with the frustration of being so turned on and not being able to carry on.

“Later,” promised Callum.

They carried on the journey now both thinking about the same thing and grinning like idiots.

It was always dispiriting arriving at the prison with its downbeat feel. How it was possible for anybody to keep their spirits up here, heaven only knew.

Phil arrived very soon after they sat down and looked especially delighted to see Callum.

“Callum!” he exclaimed, as they quickly hugged.

“Er, yeah, I’m here too dad,” whinged Ben, getting his own hug.

After updates about the children, Callum and Ben told Phil about their four day detention at the police station.

“Conspiracy to murder?” Phil was clearly shocked. “They think they can get enough on you?”

“How can they dad? We had nothing to do with it.”

“You’ve seen how they can. Jimmy Blackwell’s a thug so not clever enough to plant evidence properly. But not everybody’s stupid Ben. If they want to fit you up, they will.” Phil leaned back in his chair clearly thinking.

“So we think Jimmy did the hit AND tried to plant evidence?” he checked. We - Ben appreciated that. Phil carried on thinking and Callum and Ben waited expectantly. Eventually he spoke again. “There’s not a lot of reasons he’d do that. The cops have got to ‘im sharpish so in fittin’ you up he’s got to be hopin’ the cops will go after you rather than ‘im. That means he knew that whoever hired ‘im had Noah killed FOR you.”

“What?” Callum was confused. “Somebody thought we wanted Noah dead and arranged it for us?”

“Nah,” dismissed Phil. “No-one’s gonna think you two want anyone dead. This was somebody gettin’ the ‘ump on your be’alf. Like me. Or yer mum.”

Ben was beginning to understand his dad and was in no doubt that Phil would have ordered a hit on Noah to revenge the wrongs done against him and Callum but he knew that he hadn’t done it this time, if only because Noah was already dead by the time Phil learned about him.

Callum was thinking that it was time to ask some questions of his mum.

“I ‘ave a bit more for you,” said Phil, surprising them. “The money-laundering. Yer mum’s in control. Word is she got some savant to build her a computer system that sucks in kids through those apps they’re all into, she’s got spies everywhere so she knows what all the other players are up to. Nobody dares use anybody else for the work. But yer mum’s replaced the savant with some Russian bird, woman,” (he corrected himself seeing Callum and Ben frown), “ruthless by all accounts.”

“Savant?” asked Ben. “What’s a savant?” He knew what he thought the word meant but he was sure Phil would be using it from the outdated phrase ’autistic savants’; he hoped it wasn’t from the phrase ‘idiot savant’. Where on earth had he got the word?

“Like Rainman, one of those autistics.”

“What happened to that person?”

Phil shrugged. “Can’t see Jackie lettin’ ‘er walk off into the sunset, can you?”

“That person is a woman?” asked Callum. “You said ‘her’,” he explained when Phil looked at him questioningly.

“Jackie only uses men for beatings and what have you and for drivin’, and not always then. She thinks women are better for most things. So I’m guessin’ the savant was a woman.”

“You said she’s got spies everywhere. Definitely spies dad?” asked Ben, taking a step back in the conversation. “Could it be bugs?” Callum looked at him knowing exactly what he was suggesting. Did he really think Meg would have bugged the crime bosses? Phil spotted Callum’s reaction.

“You boys know the savant?”

“We do dad. We’re looking for her to keep her safe. But,” Ben decided on a bit of re-education, “I don’t think she’d like to be called a savant. She is super-bright and she is autistic but, in this context, probably the right word is expert.” Phil rolled his eyes but didn’t object.

“You need to get to her fast. Kings’ lot, and the Jusufis, they’ve all got wind that Jackie’s expert has done a runner. There’s a lot of interest in ‘er.”

“You ARE keeping your head down, Dad, yeah?” checked Ben. Phil nodded. He was. His reputation preceded him in this place and most inmates believed that his network outside prison was still in operation. It was … to an extent. But Phil was promoting the idea of himself as a resting crime boss, to be left alone, and it was working well for him.

“We talked to Roman and Tyler about you,” said Callum, “and we’ve put this picture of you on our wall. This one’s a copy for you.” He slid a photo across the table and watched Phil’s face soften as he saw himself dancing with Lexi.

“I’m a lucky old sod,” he said, emotion breaking through his voice. “And grateful. Thank you, both of you. I’m proud you’re my boys.”

Phil wanted to be the man Ben wanted him to be, and, if that didn’t work out, he wanted to seem to be that man and that meant convincing Ben. He knew the words to use.

+++

As Phil was telling Ben and Callum about Jackie’s money-laundering operation, Charlie and Frankie were finding this out for themselves having discovered the apps used to snare unsuspecting money mules, or even suspecting ones who were willing to take the risk to earn some money.

Frankie: _Why did Meg build this for her?_

For Frankie, this was the main question. Building this tech was undoubtedly wrong in her view; it exploited innocent and vulnerable people including children. Wrong on every level. The Meg she knew was not a bad person so why had she done it? She had seen for herself that Meg didn’t consider things fully; her decisions were made based on her needs which were basically consistency, safety and money, with just enough of the latter for her to buy what she wanted to buy. She was not amassing a fortune.

Charlie was equally flummoxed.

Charlie: _I don’t know._

Frankie: _Was she forced? I’m not sure. Maybe she saw this as a chance to be part of something? I always got the feeling she wanted to be part of something._

She could see that Meg’s needs were more than money, safety and consistency. She needed connections, to belong to a community, to have people who cared about what happened to her.

Charlie agreed. It was why he’d encouraged her to make a connection with MHI. Callum, Ben, Frankie and Marcus had always accepted him and his choices, only questioning them if they seemed to make him unhappy and even then always respecting his right to make decisions for himself. They all adapted to make a relationship with them possible and these connections were the most precious things in Charlie’s life. The only other person in Charlie’s life who had done this was Meg but he was beginning to think she had played him. She was already in league with Jackie when he made the suggestion to meet Callum and Ben and in hindsight he was aware that the suggestion had really come from her. Deep down, none of this squared with what he thought he knew about his friend Meg … but the facts were what they were.

Charlie: _Do you think Jackie wanted her to get close to MHI?_

Frankie: _What are you saying?_

Charlie: _She came to me saying she wanted to sort out the situation with Julie Golding. But Jackie already had that under control. So did she want Meg connected to MHI to get close to Callum and Ben?_

Frankie: _Yeah, I see. But we’re still back to why. Why did Meg do it for her? Was she forced or did she do it willingly?_

With Meg missing there was no way of knowing.

+++

The visit to Phil prompted a slightly early visit to Jackie and Ben and Callum decided to go together.

Jackie’s prison was no different to Phil’s: bleak, hopeless and soul-destroying.

Callum and Ben were kept waiting for her and had started to think she wasn’t coming when she shuffled into the room looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“Hello boys,” she said as she sat down gingerly.

“Keep your face away from the camera,” warned Callum. She noticed immediately that Callum and Ben had angled their chairs and adjusted hers accordingly.

“You hurt?” asked Ben, worried creases appearing above his eyes. She looked at him wondering if he cared. He probably did, she thought; he couldn’t help himself.

“I’m fine,” she said but her wincing gave her away. Callum and Ben looked at each other. Who had got to her?

“If somebody has got to you, are we in danger?” asked Callum but she was clearly in pain and his sympathy won through. “You’ve been beaten, Mum. Do you need medical care?” They were both now looking at her like they were concerned and wanted to help so she wrapped her arms around herself defensively and scowled at them in irritation.

“I’ll sort it,” she said, flashing her eyes to indicate that was an end to the discussion. Callum and Ben looked at each other again.

“Did you sort Noah Belasis?” Callum asked, getting straight to the point. Jackie looked away and didn’t answer. “Let me tell you how that went Mum. The hitman was shit. The police were onto him in no time. So his next move was to fit up Ben and me, breaking into our house to get hair samples and then planting them in his car. Ben and me were detained for four days – we spent four days in a cell away from our children, away from each other, Mum - on suspicion of conspiracy to murder.”

“Fortunately,” continued Ben, “the hitman hired was not that smart and the police weren’t fooled by the planted evidence. But we are concerned that somebody smarter could do a better job of fitting us up and Callum and me could find ourselves with life sentences for something we didn’t do. Is that what you want for us? For our children?”

“He wronged us Mum and we didn’t get justice but we didn’t want him dead, or hurt in any way. You get that, yeah?” Callum stared at her. “There’s an investigation and, if you’re implicated, they’re going to look at us again and wonder if we asked for your help.”

“We want to be known as law-abiding people not as part of a criminal dynasty. It’s hard enough and you have not helped us.” Ben’s disappointment echoed Callum’s.

At this, Jackie dropped her head. Callum’s and Ben’s distaste for her way of life was one thing and it didn’t bother her all that much but she didn’t like their disappointment in her care of them, and she especially didn’t like that they were justifiably disappointed.

“I hear you. It won’t happen again,” she muttered, looking determinedly away from them.

“Please let us at least try to have a life away from criminality, Mum,” pleaded Callum.

“I get it. I said I ‘eard you, didn’t I? I do understand what you’re tryin’ to achieve.” She looked at them both in turn. “I respect that. I do.” She had a lot to lose here. Callum’s visits, especially when he brought Ben, were her favourite occasions. Stories about her boys and her grandchildren were a big part of what made life worth living. It had been impetuous to punish Noah and, with the benefit of hindsight, possibly a big mistake. But she couldn’t have anyone thinking they could go after her family. This had needed to be sorted. It wasn’t about Noah; it was about all of the other fuckers who would think they could do what he did. However, Callum and Ben were going to find out she was behind it, of course they were, and it would set her back with them. She was very annoyed with herself. She was cleverer than this.

“What we really want to talk about today is Meg,” said Ben, changing the subject. “Call off your dogs, Jackie. Let her go.” Jackie was starting to think her decision making was off. Meg had been chosen because Callum and Ben wouldn’t be able to resist trying to help her. Why then had she thought that they wouldn’t stay committed to her? It was obvious that they wouldn’t give up on her. And of course they were bound to find out what Meg had been doing for her, what she had made Meg do for her. She was kicking herself for not thinking this through.

“It’s not my dogs she needs to worry about,” she said despondently.

“She’s in danger and YOU are responsible,” warned Callum. “Now tell us how to help her. We don’t care about your racket. That’s between you and the law. You keep it well away from us. But we want to know how we get Meg out.”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Everybody knows about her. They’re all looking for her.”

“Well make a plan. No dodgy hitmen or fixers.” Callum definitely looked like he meant business. Maybe this was a way to make amends, thought Jackie, and decided she was going to give this some proper thought.

“Your injuries - they about getting info on Meg?” asked Ben perceptively. Jackie nodded. “You didn’t give her up, did you? You better not have fuckin’ dropped her in it.”

“Why d’ya think I’m this beat up? Anyway, I can’t find her. I’m in the same boat as everybody else.”

“We know she’s good at hiding. We probably understand that better than you,” said Callum. “So for us, it’s not about finding her. What we want is a way she can feel safe. Safe from you and the other crime bosses. Safe from prosecution - she can’t go down. Start thinking about that.”

The five minute warning had gone minutes ago and they knew they were on their last few seconds. Callum stood up and cupped his mum’s face with his large hand. He’d never done that before and she resisted the urge to rest her cheek in that comfort.

“I’m sorry you’re hurt,” he said softly. “You bring it on yourself but I don’t wish it on you. Please take care of yourself.”

“Looks like it’d hurt too much to hug you, so you’re gonna miss out on the Mitchell-Highway love this time,” quipped Ben. “Please just remember what we’re about Jackie. We’re all about being clean. Keep your shit away from us.”

She noticed that both of them had made sure the camera got all of their parting comments. Clever boys.

+++

Without DCI Wilcox setting the pace, the investigation into Noah Belasis’ murder was making painfully slow progress, held up at every turn by the woefully incompetent DI Linda Bird who was now the Senior Investigating Officer. It was coming to the end of May and the Super was ready to close it down if they didn’t get some answers.

“We need to establish a link between Jackie Highway and Jimmy Blackwell, or between Debs Tomsett and Jimmy Blackwell,” urged Joe for the thousandth time knowing Linda was still hung up on Callum and Ben having asked for Jackie’s help.

“How did Jackie even know about Noah?” she demanded to know. It was actually a good question, thought Joe begrudgingly. The trouble was that she thought she already had the answer, that being that Callum and Ben had told Jackie.

“Even if the Mitchell-Highways told her, and let’s not forget they told us that they didn’t and we have no proof that they did, it doesn’t mean they asked her to organise a hit on Noah,” argued Joe. “That last CCTV we had from the prison, they were clearly telling her they didn’t want any involvement with her crimes.” Linda rolled her eyes.

“Miraculously the only part of the conversation caught on camera,” she remarked. Joe had to concede the truth of this.

The upshot was that Joe and Linda found themselves visiting the notorious Jackie Highway in prison who, unsurprisingly, was dismissive of their theories.

“You sayin’ my boys asked for my help? No they didn’t. You’ve met ‘em. They don’t want nuffin’ to do wiv that sort of thing.” Jackie sat back in her chair smugly pleased that she was telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

“They visit you,” said Linda. What does that prove? thought Joe.

“What’s that prove?” argued Jackie. “All that proves is they’ve got bleedin’ hearts. Again, you’ve met ‘em. I’m sure you’ve worked that out for yerself.” She was picking up that the lady copper was wanting to pin something on her boys but that her colleague, the baby-faced boy sitting quietly listening, did not agree.

“What? So we’re supposed to believe they’re angels?” asked Linda, disbelievingly.

“Can’t take credit for it. I left Callum when he was six. Nothing to do with his upbringing and the fine young man he’s turned into,” Jackie smirked. “No questions, baby-face?” she directed at Joe.

“I’m inclined to agree with you,” admitted Joe. “It was nothing to do with Callum and Ben. But what if you heard somehow about somebody abusing your son and his husband? What would you do?” He schooled his face into an expression of polite interest.

“Ooh a smart one. That’s a relief,” she sneered, directing a withering look at Linda. “So ask your questions, baby-face.”

“Did somebody tell you what Noah Belasis had done to your son … and granddaughter?” A flash of darkness crossed Jackie’s face before she could stop it and Joe knew he had hit his mark.

“Yes they did,” she said, knowing she’d given it away. Sneaky, mentioning Lexi like that, thought Jackie. He might look all innocence but he was clearly wily.

“Who?” asked Joe.

“Well it wasn’t Callum and Ben. So come on detectives, detect. Who else knew and could let me know?”

“Megan Smith,” suggested Joe.

“Well, yes, that is possible,” mused Jackie. “An’ of course, it might have been ‘er, but then again it might not. Think again, who else?”

“You’re suggesting someone in the police?” posited Joe, before asking cheekily, “Who are your connections in the police?”

Jackie laughed out loud and pointed at Joe.

“You, you’re good,” she cackled. He smiled back at her.

“Did you ask for the hit on Noah?” asked Joe. Jackie stared at him. Joe raised his eyebrows questioningly. She shrugged. It was clear that she was not going to answer this question.

“Did your son, Callum Mitchell-Highway and/or your son-in-law Ben Mitchell-Highway, conspire with you to murder Noah Belasis?” demanded Linda, fed up with the to and fro and thinking that Joe was getting nowhere. Jackie looked at her like she was a complete fool and then looked back at Joe as if to say ‘is she for real?’ before returning her gaze to Linda.

“No.”

+++

Back in the car, Joe wondered what Linda had got from the interview.

“She’s playing us,” claimed Linda. Typical, meaningless assertion, thought Joe.

“You see,” said Joe, trying to sound reasonable, “I got that she did organise the hit, not for them but for her. She wouldn’t want anybody thinking somebody could do this to her nearest and dearest and get away with it. Callum and Ben had nothing to do with it; they’re angry that she did it. We have evidence of that and I don’t think they’re acting. She tried to deflect, saying there are moles in the police, but I think Megan Smith told her about Noah. Maybe I think that because I don’t want to believe she could have moles in the police; I don’t know. But I believe she put Megan in Callum and Ben’s world so that she could have a connection with them. She lives for them, they’re VERY important to her.”

“Can you prove any of that?” sighed Linda.

“No, it’s a theory,” explained Joe patiently. “But from that theory, we have things we can check. So, if Jackie wanted Noah murdered, how did she organise it? We have phone records of Jimmy Blackwell talking to Debs Tomsett, we know Debs Tomsett is an associate of Jackie’s. So we bring in Debs again. We find Jimmy Blackwell. We leave the Mitchell-Highways alone. We’ve wasted enough time on chasing them and with precious little justification.”

“Maybe Megan Smith is more involved. Let’s bring her in,” said Linda. Joe almost screamed aloud.

“Megan wasn’t asking for the hit on behalf of Callum and Ben. She was telling Jackie about them, feeding her titbits.” He tried hard to keep his voice measured.

“That’s it!” exclaimed Linda.

“What?” Joe was confused now.

“Callum and Ben got Megan to ask Jackie to sort Noah. That’s MY theory, so you get Megan in and start checking, alright?”

It was zero steps forward, ten steps back. Joe could not have been more frustrated. There was one good thing about it, though. It gave MHI more time. Ben and Callum weren’t in any danger of being brought in again any time soon.

+++

Prison visits always left Callum and Ben with a need to immerse themselves in the more wholesome aspects of their life. Their stint in detention had them listing dangerously and they desperately wanted to get things back on an even keel by having fun and enjoying their family and friends. They had also been talking about Steve and how they could support him and had decided to invite him to more family events, the first of which was to be a hurriedly arranged barbeque to celebrate Lexi’s birthday.

“Thirtyish. That’s not too many for a barbeque. What do you think, Lex?” asked Callum.

“Yeah,” agreed Lexi, ear buds firmly in place so not hearing a word but able to recognise that a question had been asked where the probable answer was ‘yes’. Ben frowned at her.

 _Music off_ he signed. Rolling her eyes and huffing loudly, she complied.

“What?” she asked rudely. She was going to be thirteen after all.

“A small barbeque, family and friends, for your birthday? What do you think?” repeated Callum.

“Your family, your friends, my birthday,” she sighed, turning her music back on. Callum and Ben looked at each other for who was going to jump in.

 _Off_ signed Callum. With an exaggerated huff, Lexi complied, swung herself to sitting from her reclined position on the big sofa and glared at her dads. They were seriously getting on her nerves this week, thinking that half term was a time to spring clean the house and making her help. And now, when she finally had a minute to herself, they were in her face.

“We want to celebrate your birthday with our family – your family! - and closest friends, people who have known you the longest, the people you would turn to if you were ever in trouble,” said Callum calmly but leaving Lexi in no doubt that he was disappointed. “We asked if you wanted to do something with your own friends but you said you weren’t bothered. I know we’re going to the Rainbow Festival in a few weeks but Nanny and Sharon, Uncle Stuart and Aunty Whitney, Aunty Lou, Frankie, Ollie, none of them will be there so we thought a barbeque would be a nice idea for something nearer your actual birthday. This Saturday is what we’re thinking.”

“Okay fine,” said Lexi, reaching for her ear buds then thinking twice as she saw their annoyed faces. “What?”

“It would be nice if you engaged with the idea a bit,” said Callum, as ever maintaining his air of calm. “Do you want to ask some friends?”

Lexi was about to remark sardonically on her abundance of friends when she saw an opportunity to provoke her dads. She sat forward and pretended that inspiration had hit her.

“Yeah, there’s some boys I like, four of them, year nines. I’ll ask them.” She smiled sweetly and popped her ear buds back in but not before Ben grabbed her phone making sure she couldn’t start the music again.

“Okay Little Miss I’m-so-grown-up-I-can-have-four-boyfriends-at-once, these friends – who are they?”

“Kaffi, Kojo, Luke and Jack.” She stared at him, engaging in a face-off, until they both broke off laughing. “Okay,” she admitted, “they’re from the news team. Lily and me have two lunchtimes a week with them. They’re a laugh. But they probably won’t come so you can stop worrying.”

“Ask ‘em,” encouraged Callum. “Why not?” He looked at her caringly. Lily rarely talked about friends but he and Ben were aware that she didn’t have many. “Do you still hang out with Bonny and Miles? They’ll be at the barbeque.”

“Yes. They’re a thing, you know.” Lexi looked sad and weary imparting this news and Callum and Ben were jolted into the realisation that she was having problems. Callum moved to sit on the coffee table opposite her.

“Leaving you out a bit?” he asked softly. Ben came to sit on the other end of the big sofa.

“A bit,” admitted Lexi. “It’s got a bit better since … well, it’s got a bit better. I’ve become really good friends, best friends, with Lily.”

“Lily Kulogowski?” Callum was surprised. The last time he and Lexi had talked about Lily, they were definitely not friends.

“Yeah, she comes to news team with me and I sit with her in class most of the time.” She dropped her head. “Nobody likes us really. Just Bonny and Miles.” Ben scooted up the sofa to sit next to her.

“And Kaffi, Kojo, Luke and Jack,” he reminded her. “So invite them.” He handed over her phone.

“Now?”

“Yes.”

Lexi was buoyed by Ben’s proactive mood and, without thinking too hard, typed the message.

_BBQ at my house on Sat. Family thing. Wanna come?_

The text had gone and now Lexi was feeling nervous. Would they think she was weird?

“They’re going to think I’m even weirder than they already think,” she muttered, looking at the messaging app and thinking it probably wasn’t too late to delete the message.

It was too late.

_YESSSSS!!!_

_Time? Address?_

_What shall I wear?_

_Who’ll be there?_

She giggled at the rapid succession of messages from Kaffi.

“Well, Kaffi’s coming. You’re going to like him. He’s … out there.” Another message came in.

 _wtf Lexi? short notice! Luke and me def wanna be there but in Spain back late Sat_ ☹

“Jack and Luke can’t come. They’re not back from their holidays. They’re twins,” she explained seeing Ben’s confusion.

_long notice Lexi DARLING our bday party is first day of summer hols expect you there_

“They’ve invited me to their party. It’s on the first day of the summer holidays.” Callum and Ben saw her uncertainty.

“That’s a long lead time,” commented Ben, peering at the messages as Lexi held them for him to see. “Oh I get it, long notice, short notice … darling?”

“That’s Kaffi. He calls everyone darling. Except none of us because we told him not to. So it’s our joke.”

“They seem like fun friends,” suggested Callum, noticing that Lexi had not perked up as much as he might have expected.

“Yeah,” murmured Lexi, clearly distracted.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” asked Callum. Lexi put down her phone and looked from one dad to the other.

“Parties,” she said glumly. “I don’t get invited to parties. I know a bit because people talk about them. Even in year eight there’s drinking and kissing and stuff. So in year nine there might be more things like maybe drugs and maybe more …” she tailed off, unsure of what word to use.

“Sex,” said Ben, his eyes twinkling. “You can say anything to us Lex and you can definitely use the word sex. Because sex is the best word to describe sex …”

“Stop it!” Lexi warned him with a fierce scowl although privately she was amused. Ben was impossible sometimes but Lexi appreciated how easy it was to talk to him. She knew from her friends that her dads were unusually open and approachable and she loved that about them.

“Most of the kids there will be fourteen, yeah?” said Callum, thinking that Ben could do with reining it in a bit. “So I reckon there’ll be kids there up for taking drugs, maybe having sex at a party. I don’t know but I’d guess they’d be a minority. Parties are where kids get off with each other so there will be some kids kissing, groping each other, fumbling along.” Ben smiled at the terminology, gently teasing Callum with raised eyebrows. Callum ignored him and carried on. “There’ll be kids drinking more than they can stand up on. Drinking too much is the usual cause of dodgy decisions. And, Lex, listen … I know there’ll also be plenty of kids doing none of those things.”

“You keep your phone with you and call us the second you want to come home. We’ll be home and waiting and will come straightaway. We’ll sort out a tracker app so you know where we are. You don’t ever take a drink offered to you. Always open your own can or bottle. Don’t do anything you don’t want to do.” Ben smiled at her. “Other than that, just chat, dance, you’ve been to our parties, you know the kind of thing.” He nudged her. “Got more messages there.” He and Callum left her to be absorbed in her phone again, heading off to the kitchen for their own chat.

Lily: _oi shaw boys wheres my invite … and KKs_

Luke: _obvs all invited expect you all there_

Kaffi: _KK??? not joined at the hip_

Kaffi: _although would be nice …_

Jack: _poor sod_

Kaffi: _Were you already invited to Lexis BBQ Lily?_

Kaffi: _Were we SECOND thoughts Lexi?_

Lexi settled herself down to the nonsense chat. It was fun and she liked this group.

In the kitchen, Callum and Ben were discussing Lexi’s problems.

“Why don’t her classmates like her? Is it ‘cause they know about us?” Callum was worried. Ben wasn’t.

“She’s uncompromising. Being a teenager is about fitting in and she won’t even try. She’s deliberately not taking the easiest road. Honestly Callum, I’m not worried. I’m happy she’s confident about being herself. And I’m really happy she can talk to us. Like she was happy to talk to us about her worries about the party. It’s good.”

Callum nodded. Ben had good instincts about parenting and he trusted them.

“It’s only three days and then we get to meet some of the new friends. Or is it just Kaffi darling who’s coming?” said Ben sniggering.

“Don’t you go calling him that,” warned Callum.

+++

Kaffi was the first guest to arrive. He was wearing black skinny ankle skimmers and a black vest with a brightly coloured floral kaftan and purple pumps.

“You look great,” admired Lexi as he twirled along the entrance hall for her. Ben and Callum watched, already amused by the young exhibitionist. “These are my dads. Dads, this is Kaffi.”

“Hi Kaffi. Call me Ben,” said Ben. “This is Callum.”

“Hi Kaffi,” smiled Callum, genuinely delighted to meet him so giving him the full sunshine treatment causing Kaffi to promptly fall in love.

Roman and Tyler were ferrying guests through to the garden as the side passageway was blocked with bikes and Kaffi followed them admiring the beautiful house as he went. His own house was very stylish – his mum was an interior designer – so he recognised the strong choices but it hadn’t been what he’d expected and he recognised in himself the tendency to invent his own versions of reality. Why should Lexi’s house be full of dark and dangerous corners just because her dads had been in trouble a long time ago? Why would her dads look hardened and scarred because they had once been on the wrong side of the law? Kaffi had been surprised to be introduced to two handsome, well-dressed men who both smelled wonderful. Not at all what he’d imagined. And they had a fluffy little dog. Perfect.

“I like to be early,” he explained to Tyler who was getting him a drink. “Then I can meet everybody as they arrive.” He dropped down to cuddle Robbie who seemed to have taken an instant liking to him.

“Why?” asked Tyler.

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to meet everyone as they arrive?”

“Because I don’t know anybody,” said Kaffi.

“That makes sense,” approved Tyler. “It’s a good idea.” He smiled at Kaffi with the same smile as Callum and Kaffi was doubly regretful that one was too old and one was too young. This was a very good-looking household.

It wasn’t long before everybody else arrived and Kaffi was entertaining the group with his charm.

“He’s a good person to have at a party,” commented Kathy to Ben. “He’s fun. He heard Whitney calling me ‘Kaffy’ and thought we had the same name. He was thrilled, like properly excited. It was funny.”

The party had a good energy with everybody genuinely pleased to see each other and catch up on what had been happening in all of their lives. Callum and Stuart got cracking on the barbeque and soon the delicious smells permeated the air and everybody got down to the important business of eating. Callum had prepared a delicious spread of salads, every colour under the sun seemingly present in the dishes. Very soon, the conversation lulled as everybody tucked in with Robbie doing the rounds securing sneaky titbits. Ben appreciated the love that Callum poured into his food making every guest feel special. It was a wonderful gift. The doorbell disturbed his reverie and he made his way through the house.

Kojo was the last guest to arrive. Ben opened the door to see a boy as tall as him, skinny and sporting a cut and bruised cheek. Kojo saw him clock the injury and turned around to leave but Ben caught him by the arm.

“Kojo?” he asked. Kojo nodded. “I’m Ben. Lexi’s dad. Lexi wasn’t sure if you were coming,” said Ben, guiding him into the living room. “You didn’t reply but I’m guessin’ that’s ‘cause you’ve had a bad week.” He saw the glistening tears in the boy’s eyes. “You’re safe here, Kojo,” he said gently. “I need to get the first aid kit and sort you out a bit. You sit here and catch your breath. That okay? Don’t move.”

When he arrived back, he cleaned up the wound, put strips across the cut and applied some arnica. Kojo sat quietly throughout. It was such a relief to be here and he was immensely grateful to Ben for not asking any questions.

“Right, we’re going to go through to the garden,” explained Ben. “I’ve already asked Callum to tell everybody that you’ve been hurt but you’ve come to a party to see your friends, to be around friendly people, not to talk about what’s happened to you. Okay?” Kojo nodded.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice shaky and quiet. Ben smiled at him.

“Lexi told us that you lot from the news team know a bit about Callum and me. We know all about tough lives so you’ve come to the right house for help.”

“That’s what I thought,” whispered Kojo. His pained eyes implored Ben to help him and Ben’s heart broke a little to see somebody so young in so much need.

“Smart,” he said approvingly, not betraying his despairing sympathy but smiling again and gesturing for Kojo to follow him.


	6. Hiding in Plain Sight

When they arrived in the garden, Ben introduced Kojo to Callum, Ollie and Tom who were standing together and then left him to be fussed over by Lexi, Lily and Kaffi.

“What happened to him?” asked Ollie, clearly concerned.

“Somebody has hit him,” replied Ben, knowing from experience exactly how Kojo had received his injuries. “Don’t worry. We won’t let him leave until we know he’s safe but for now he just needs a bit of a breather.”

Lexi had taken her friends inside for a tour of the house and when they emerged half an hour later, Kojo was more relaxed and talking happily, Kaffi was fluttering around him and Lexi clearly had him under her wing. It was the best thing for him.

“It should be a police matter,” commented Richard to Louise. “Or social care at least.”

“Ben and Callum know what they’re doing,” said Louise insistently. “Let them handle it.”

“He turned up here with a bloodied face. I think Lexi has spoken about her dads and he came here for help,” suggested Steve perceptively. “I don’t think he came to see his friends although it’s doing him good to be around them.”

“So let them help him? Is that what you think?” asked Richard. Steve nodded. Amanda hooked her hand through his arm in support.

Callum watched Amanda, Richard, Louise and Steve talking and wondered if they were thinking this was a matter for social care; he hoped they would give him and Ben a chance to give Kojo the help he was seeking before they started calling the authorities. He noticed, as Ben had a couple of weeks ago, that Louise seemed pale and tired as she sipped at her glass of water distractedly. Turning his attention to Stuart and Whitney, he saw that Whitney looked almost identical to Louise, pale, tired, even sipping at a glass of water with a similar level of distraction. Maybe there was a virus doing the rounds, he thought.

Swinging round, he saw that their friends from the school gates were deep in a conversation that looked a little tense so he went to join them.

“Did you know Bonny and Miles are girlfriend and boyfriend?” asked Simon as he arrived.

“We only found out this week,” he answered. “Why? Didn’t you know?” He thought it was odd that Bonny and Miles hadn’t told their parents as Lexi had said they had been going out for weeks.

“No,” said Theresa. “But Eddie and Dan did. They’re telling us that our kids are so wrapped up in each other that they’ve not been talking to Lexi.”

“Hmm, yeah that’s true,” agreed Callum cautiously, “although Lexi said it’s recently got better.”

“I’m a bit sad, if I’m honest,” said Emma. “Lexi’s moved on and found new friends.” Not sad for Lexi then, thought Callum, just for Miles.

“Whereas we’re very happy,” smiled Danielle. “Lexi is a lovely friend for Lily. Lil’s been much happier since she started hanging around with Lexi. And Kojo and Kaffi are great.” Again, not so much happy for Lexi, thought Callum, as for Lily. He was bemused at their partisan parenting. Surely it would be better if all of the parents were concerned for the happiness of all of the children? He understood that they were responsible for their own children but, in his mind, part of that was encouraging them to think about others as well as themselves and, as a parent, part of that was modelling it.

“I think things got better because they cleared the air,” he reassured them. “Look at them. They’re all good together.” They watched their offspring giggling and chatting. It definitely didn’t look like there were problems.

Ben and Callum did their usual thing of finding each other towards the end of the day and observing their guests. It was a good gathering with lots of friendly mingling, a benefit of inviting people who knew each other well. Everybody was on very good form, excepting Louise and Whitney.

“Louise and Whitney look unwell,” said Callum, putting his arm around Ben’s shoulder and pulling him closer. There was nothing he liked more than feeling Ben’s body next to his.

“Hmm,” hummed Ben, “or pregnant.” Callum spun him round so that they were facing.

“What? You think …?” Ben laughed at Callum’s astonishment.

“I do. But what do I know?” He reached up to give Callum a quick kiss and wrapped his arms around him, gazing at him adoringly. Callum responded with more arms and a forehead kiss.

“Your dads are so dreamy!” enthused Kaffi who was enjoying watching them.

“They are, aren’t they?” laughed Lily. She thought Ben and Callum were great, reflecting her hopes and dreams of romance. “They’re always like that, aren’t they Lex?”

“Yep. ALL the time,” moaned Lexi. Okay, she got it, they were cute together but those heart eyes they couldn’t help but make at each other were just soppy. That was her front; secretly she loved how they were together.

Ollie and Tom were talking to Kathy and Mike as Ben and Callum were wrapped up in each other and Tom caught Kathy smiling at them.

“You’re proud of them,” he observed. He’d seen a similar look on his own mum’s face a month earlier when he and Ollie had visited his parents’ farm.

“Oh so much,” gushed Kathy. “They’ve both been through such a lot but they have each other and their beautiful children and it’s so lovely. Seeing your child happy is what a mum lives for. You two seem happy as well,” she said, smiling at him and Ollie.

“Yes we are,” smiled Tom, sharing a affectionate look with Ollie. “We went up north to visit my folks and they were just like you - dead chuffed for us.” Ollie and Tom were loving living together, constantly having each other around, waking up every day seeing the other right there. Happy was an understatement.

“What made you move to London?” asked Mike. Tom glanced momentarily at Ollie who put a supportive arm around him as he took a deep breath.

“I lost somebody, a boyfriend, beaten to death in a hate attack. It was ten years ago but it made me afraid and I retreated to my parents’ farm where I could hide from life. Eventually I recovered and decided on a bold move.” He looked relieved to have been able to say all of this.

“Oh Tom,” said Kathy sympathetically, thinking of the parallel with Ben.

“Ben and I have talked about it,” said Tom, guessing what Kathy was thinking. “Everybody is a composition you know. For me and Ben, it’s one of our composite parts, something that can never be forgotten but maybe is important in framing who we are and how we act.” Kathy reached for his face and held it gently for a moment.

“I’m proud of you too,” she said. “Lucky you,” she said to Ollie. “Lucky you too,” she said turning back to Tom. “Ollie’s very special.”

Frankie and Whitney were also watching Ben and Callum.

“Always snogging,” commented Frankie. Whitney giggled. There was something about Callum and Ben that made their public displays of affection sweet rather than gross.

“I do like a bit of snogging myself,” laughed Whitney.

“Yeah me too,” said Frankie, gazing at Marcus and thinking about kissing him. It was a lovely thought and she sighed happily. Whitney giggled again.

“Listen to you,” she laughed as Frankie grinned cheekily.

“Watch out, incoming niece on the cadge,” said Frankie under her breath, alerting Whitney to Lexi’s approach with Lily and Kaffi in tow.

“This is one of my dads’ best friends, Frankie, and my Aunty Whitney, the clothes designer I was telling you about,” introduced Lexi. “This is Kaffi … and Lily you already know.”

“I love your style, Kaffi,” said Whitney. Kaffi dropped a little curtsey.

“I have some of your designs,” he enthused. “The red fringe jacket … which I ADORE. And the white shorts. They are chichi. I LOVE your stall.” He was sorely tempted to add ‘darling’ but he wanted Whitney to like him so a rare moment of uncertainty crept in.

“Chichi?” questioned Whitney, raising her eyebrows, very entertained by the young fashionista.

“It’s my word for seriously cute and stylish and original.”

“He’s such a liar,” said Lily, laughing at Kaffi. “He heard it this week on Drag Race. It’s not his word.” Kaffi scowled at her. She might be an excellent TV companion but she wasn’t helping his attempt to impress Whitney.

“Model for your new range?” suggested Frankie, knowing that Whitney had been looking for somebody and thinking Kaffi had an interesting face. She’d been taking photographs throughout the afternoon and had noticed how well he looked on camera.

“Oooh YES!” exclaimed Kaffi. “If you need someone, please ask me.”

“Okay, Kaffi, you’re hired,” laughed Whitney to which he clapped his hands excitedly.

Lexi looked around for Kojo and saw him chatting to Roman and Tyler. He seemed okay but she was worried about him and hoped her dads would be able to help him. Seeing that they were also watching him, she sidled over.

“Can you help him?” she asked. They could both see her concern.

“Gonna try, sweetheart,” said Ben, giving her a quick squeeze, sharing a look with Callum. They were definitely going to try.

It looked like people were getting ready to leave so Ben approached Kojo.

“Alright, Kojo?” he asked, getting a worried look in response. “We don’t want you to leave until we’re sure you’re going to be okay, so hang around, yeah, after everyone’s gone.”

“I’m fine,” said Kojo, looking at the floor.

“No, you’re not,” said Ben gently. Kojo looked up and saw that Ben wasn’t going to be fobbed off. The urge to flee was strong but he reminded himself that he had come here today hoping that Lexi’s dads would understand and help. Ben’s kindness overwhelmed him and the tears came unbidden. “Come and sit in the room off the kitchen,” urged Ben. “Nobody will disturb you there. I’m just going to say some goodbyes.” Ben led him inside and deposited him in an armchair. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he promised.

Kojo was facing the wall of photo tiles. This was a world away from the one he lived in. So many people, smiles and laughter. He loved his gran and there were lots of good moments they shared, cooking, watching television and listening to music and he knew for certain that she loved him. But she was a seventy-nine year old woman with some very fixed, old-fashioned habits and almost every photo on display in their home was of the two of them formally posed with stiff smiles. She had removed all photos of his mum, dad and brother from her house, effectively obliterating their existence. In a book on the shelf, there were some old photos taken in Ghana when she was a young woman but, other than those, it was just Kojo and her.

“They’re snapshots of our best bits,” said Callum, coming into the room and sitting on the chair next to Kojo. “We don’t photograph our arguments and disasters.”

“Can’t fake love,” said Kojo.

“These aren’t fake love, I’ll give you that,” agreed Callum. “But you CAN fake love and people do.” He talked about the photos, explaining who was who, answering Kojo’s questions until Ben arrived, pulling up a spare dining room chair that lived in the corner of the room.

“When were you hit, Kojo?” It wasn’t the question Kojo had been expecting. He also hadn’t expected Callum to start the questioning. He’d been watching Ben so was unprepared.

“Yesterday,” he said and then realised he had just told them that somebody had hit him. He had been thinking of saying that he’d fallen but it was too late now. “My brother,” he admitted.

“Has he done it before?” Callum’s voice was soft and encouraging. Kojo nodded.

“First time on my face though,” he said. After a moment’s indecision, he lifted his t-shirt to reveal a number of bruises, old and newer, across his torso. “I let him down. He gave me a job to do an’ … I got scared.”

“Drugs?” asked Callum. Kojo shrugged, thoroughly dejected. “Who do you live with Kojo?” Callum changed the line of questioning. He was keenly aware that they had to take their time and not push too hard. It was important not to further frighten this already terrified boy.

“My gran,” he said, suddenly looking alarmed. “I said I was at Kaffi’s last night. She hasn’t seen this. I don’t want her to see me like this. She can’t see me like this.”

“Where were you last night then?”

“Dad’s. I didn’t have anywhere else to go. He didn’t know I was there. Arko neither. That’s my brother.” Callum and Ben were both immediately concerned that Kojo was fourteen years old and last night nobody had known where he was. Why hadn’t his gran checked? How had his dad been unaware that he was in the house?

“Are you safe at your dad’s?” It was the first question from Ben and Kojo looked across at him and shook his head. “Is your mum around?” asked Ben. Kojo missed his mum. Or maybe he just missed the idea of her – he could barely remember her. Either way round, Lexi had told him enough to know that Callum and Ben would understand this.

“She died. Drug overdose. I was six. Arko was ten.” Callum and Ben both felt a surge of empathy for this young boy. They knew what this felt like and they had two sons who knew what it felt like. Kojo sensed the understanding and was calmed.

“Okay, so you’re safe at your gran’s, not safe at your dad’s. Arko. Is he at your gran’s or your dad’s?” questioned Callum, establishing the landscape.

“Dad’s. Gran won’t have no trouble so Arko’s not welcome.” Panic rising, he looked wide-eyed at Callum then Ben. “When she sees me, she’s gonna think I’m trouble as well and she won’t want me there.” He slumped back in the chair, fresh tears coursing down his face.

“So, you have at least two problems I can see,” said Ben. “First, your gran will be expecting you home tonight so she will see your injury. Two, your brother has expectations that you’ll help him with something that scares you. Let’s tackle them separately, yeah?” Kojo nodded. “We can talk to your gran. Explain that Arko has been pressurising you. I don’t know your gran but I would lay money down that she’ll understand. Where does she live?”

“Wellington Rd.”

“What? Wellington Road near here?” Ben was surprised. It was the road Kathy and Louise lived on. Kojo nodded.

“Your mum and sister live there,” he said. “I recognised them. I live at the bottom end, not the posh end like them. They’ve probably never noticed me.” The simple assessment shocked Ben. Although he was fully aware that his mum’s road had a ‘good’ end, he had never thought about how that might seep into the self-esteem of the people living at the other end.

“Where does your dad live?” asked Callum, seeing Ben had lapsed into introspection.

“Beckton.”

“Okay, that’s good,” said Callum reassuringly. “He’s not that nearby. Would Arko show up at your gran’s?”

“No way,” stated Kojo with great certainty.

“So if we get you back to your gran’s and smooth things over with her, you’re safe there?” checked Callum. For the first time, Kojo looked hopeful.

“Your other problem is bigger.” Ben didn’t want to crush the hopefulness but it was important to address this. “How likely is it that your brother will leave you alone if you tell him you want no part of whatever he’s doing?” Kojo’s wretched face answered the question.

“Don’t worry. We get it,” soothed Callum. “It was how Ben and me got ourselves in trouble more than a few times. It’s hard to say no to people when you think you owe them something.” He reached across and held Ben’s hand briefly, grateful they had each other and had found a way out. They hadn’t found a way out at fourteen though.

“You HAVE to stand up to him. And it has to be you, it can’t be anyone else.” Ben hated giving this hard truth but Kojo’s best chance was if he found some strength or Arko would never leave him alone. “But you’re not on your own. Callum and me will be right behind you, in person, in the background, whatever you need. Our friend Ollie, you met him, yeah, he’s with us as well. He wants to help. We can all hold our own.”

“He has a gun.” Callum and Ben weren’t surprised. What self-respecting gangster didn’t?

“We have people on our side,” said Ben, “on both sides of the law. Favours we can call in. People he won’t want to cross.” He was aware he was crossing his good citizen line and pulled himself back. “Your best chance for a life away from crime is to let us use our police contacts … which might get Arko arrested.” Kojo sunk his head in his hands.

“You could be turning your back on part of your family. Cutting them away from your life. How do you feel about that?” asked Callum, distraught himself at the level of Kojo’s distress.

They sat for a while letting Kojo cry, understanding exactly how he felt.

“Let’s deal with the first problem first. Let me call your gran,” coaxed Callum. Kojo handed over his phone but couldn’t stop crying. By the time his gran arrived, he had worn himself out and was fast asleep.

+++

Akua Bedwei was not to be trifled with. She turned up at Callum’s and Ben’s house and was instantly determined that these white people with their big house and fancy car would not be telling her anything. Within ten minutes, she had changed her mind. These were good people and definitely suitable associates for her grandson.

“I’ll be telling that Arko to leave Kojo be,” she insisted after she had heard the full story.

“Great,” agreed Ben, very intimidated by this fierce woman, “we’re just saying we’re here for backup.”

“Kojo is a big friend of our daughter. He’ll spend time here. She’ll spend time at your house. We have an interest in their safety,” reasoned Callum, less intimidated by Akua. She wasn’t quite as fierce as his own mum. Akua inclined her head, imperiously indicating her consent.

“I would like to meet the young lady,” she said. Ben stuck his head out of the door and yelled for Lexi, who appeared in the living room within seconds. Nosy, eavesdropping madam, thought Ben.

“Hello Mrs Asante,” she smiled prettily.

“Mrs Bedwei,” corrected Akua. “Nothin’ to do with that Asante house,” she added, with a face like a bulldog chewing a wasp. This was followed by a grilling of Lexi: What maths set was she in? Had she won any prizes at prize-giving? Had she ever had a detention? What extra-curricular activities did she do? What was her predicted grade average? Ben and Callum were simultaneously highly amused and extremely impressed with Lexi’s performance of most perfect girl ever.

“And are you friends with that Kafele?” This last question knocked Lexi off her stride. What was the right answer to this? Lexi intuitively understood that it was a fifty-fifty question and if she didn’t get it right then she was out, in which case, she might as well be hung for the truth, she reasoned.

“Yes, really good friends,” she answered, crossing her fingers.

“Good. His grandmother and I are very close,” said Akua. Lexi silently breathed a sigh of relief.

They were disturbed by Kojo arriving in the living room. His agitation was tangible but fell away as his gran patted the sofa next to her and smiled at him.

“Come here boy,” she soothed, holding a tender hand to his broken cheek. “We’ve made a plan and we’ll be sorting out Arko, that useless waste of air.” She glared fiercely at the Mitchell-Highways as though they were the problem and Ben flinched involuntarily.

Soon afterwards, Akua and Kojo left, Lexi followed Roman and Tyler up the stairs to bed and Callum and Ben lay together on the big sofa.

“So, tell me,” wondered Callum, “how exactly are we going to stand up to an armed drug dealer?”

+++

Kojo’s gran paid a visit to her other grandson, Arko.

“I’m not here to see you,” she said rudely, facing her former son-in-law over the threshold of the front door. “I’m here to see that feckless grandson of mine.” Arko slunk out from his bedroom and took the verbal beating. It didn’t matter how much of a tough guy you were, you did not disrespect your grandmother.

But that did not mean his little brother was off the hook.

Arko needed runners and they were hard to find. When they were found, they were hard to control. When they were controlled, they stopped thinking. When they stopped thinking, they were no use to him. It was fucking frustrating. He knew his brother was smart and he wanted him to stop focusing those smarts on his schoolwork and start focusing them on something more useful - Arko’s racket. Kojo had always done whatever Arko said. Okay, sometimes it took a bit of persuasion but, in the end, he did always do what he was told.

Kojo had caught him on a bad day that day. He couldn’t be expected to be happy all the time, could he? He’d been getting grief from his handlers, his nightmare girlfriend had lost the plot with him over nothing and he’d mixed up his drugs and the comedown had been horrific. Kojo had just caught him at a bad moment. He deserved the beating. He did. Maybe he shouldn’t have hit him where it showed - Gran would have been none the wiser then – but there’s no point hitting somebody if they don’t end up hurt. So, a couple of weeks later, when Arko got a message from Kojo arranging to meet him in the park, he assumed his little brother had come to his senses.

Normally they met at the café near the playground, somewhere they’d hung out as kids escaping the drug-addled chaos of their parents’ lives. Recent renovations had seen both the café and the playground considerably upgraded and, whereas they used to be deserted, dilapidated places, now they were both packed with screaming kids and yelling parents, especially on a sunny day like today. Maybe that was why Kojo had suggested they meet by the circular pond, thought Arko. It was a much quieter part of the park.

Seeing Kojo sitting on a bench, he approached with the ubiquitous walk of urban, young, black men: swaggering, ambling, bouncing and limping all in one affected movement. If he’d been a little less concerned about how others might be viewing him, he’d have noticed that Kojo had brought company. But Arko had never been particularly observant. There was a wide circular path around the pond, cut into quadrants by paths leading to and from it, each quadrant containing two curved benches spaced evenly. In one quadrant, Kojo sat on a bench, his white trainers glinting in the sunlight, contrasting sharply with the dark skin of his bare calves, before red jersey shorts and a grey tee-shirt completed his ensemble. On the other bench in that quadrant, a man sat on the back, feet on the seat. He wore a black polo shirt buttoned all the way, grey trousers rolled up at the ankle and black slip-ons. Faggot, decided Arko, giving him scarce attention. He should have looked more closely because Ben was focused on him. In the next quadrant along, Kojo noticed a brother, not somebody he recognised so he took a second look. Tall, dressed casually in trainers, joggers and a tee, he didn’t look like a problem. Arko rolled past him, checking him out, receiving a cool stare in return. Arko hated that - not being given respect just because he was young. He could take this old brother. If he wanted to. The next quadrant contained yet another man, probably another poofter if his hair was anything to go by. Arko glanced at him then ignored him completely.

“Little Ko bro’,” he greeted Kojo. “’S ‘ealed good,” he said pointing at Kojo’s face. “Didn’t fink gran let you back wit yer face but she turn up shoutin’ at me, so seem like she fo’ you. Not cool bro’ you tellin’ her it me.” He sat down next to his brother. “Good you seen sense an’ is back.”

“I have,” confirmed Kojo, turning to face Arko. “I’m having nothin’ to do with what you’re doin’. I’m having nothin’ to do with you.” Arko was shocked for a moment and then burst out laughing. He laughed uproariously for several seconds then turned abruptly to Kojo, his eyes flashing dangerously.

“You havin’ nuffin’ to do wit me? ‘s ‘at right? I not askin’ you, Ko.”

“I am having nothing to do with you,” repeated Kojo firmly, standing up and facing Arko directly. “I’m going back to Gran’s and you’re going to leave me alone.” Callum watched from the other side of the pond and was struck with how young Kojo looked. His height and his often serious face generally made him look older so it was too easy to forget that he was fourteen. Not today, though.

Arko jumped to his feet and stood threateningly over his younger brother. He was six foot tall and his shoulders had started to broaden lending him a more powerful physical presence.

“You do what I say,” he hissed and went to grab Kojo. Ben was there in a nano-second, making Arko pause as he belatedly saw that this man might be able to handle himself. He was a little shorter than Arko but he wasn’t slight; he looked like he could pack a punch. What made Arko hesitate, however, was the look of pure anger in Ben’s eyes. Punching was a head game, Arko knew that, and this man had his head in the game.

“Fuck off faggot,” he barked, aiming for menace. “This nuffin to do wit you.”

“Wrong,” said a quiet voice behind him, startling him. He spun round coming face to face with the man from the other bench who’d stared him down so confidently. Ollie, taller and broader than him, definitely looked like he was ready for a fight. There was no mistaking what was in his eyes as he said, “Kojo here is nothing to do with YOU.” Arko looked down at the floor, feigning a lack of interest before swinging at Ollie. The blow almost caught Ollie as he danced backwards, smirking at the attempt. Arko, seeing red, stepped forwards to deliver another punch and another miss as Ollie skipped to the side.

Ben grabbed Kojo and moved him away as Callum walked calmly towards the non-fight. Arko had forgotten there was another man and howled in frustration.

“You goin’ to keep tryin’ to hit him?” said Callum. “Or can we have a civilised conversation with you?”

“This is between me and my li’l brother,” growled Arko, struggling to decide who to go for and hugely irritated by the way Ollie was leaning casually against the bench waiting for him to give up. It was not a fair fight, thought Arko, three against one, ignoring the fact that none of them were attacking him. He swung for Callum, who grabbed hold of his fist and twisted his arm behind his back.

“We have Kojo’s back,” snarled Callum. “He has told you what he wants. So now, Arko, you ARE going to leave him alone.” Arko wriggled unsuccessfully to escape Callum’s hold then found himself pushed onto the bench with Kojo, Ben, Callum and Ollie standing around him.

“Whatever you are involved in,” said Ollie. “We don’t care about it. It’s your life. We’re not involved in it so our worlds will not touch. You understand me Arko? We don’t care about you.” He looked at Kojo.

“I don’t want to be part of what you’re doing, Arko,” said Kojo firmly. “I don’t want anything to do with it. So, please, leave me alone.” Arko rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh.

“You an Asante, Ko. My brother!” he said, uncompromisingly. “It not how it is in our world.”

“I’m changing my name,” declared Kojo, having just that moment made that decision. “I DON’T WANT THIS,” he shouted, starting to feel upset. Ollie put a comforting hand on his arm, sending him a message to be calm.

“Let him make his own choices,” said Ollie addressing Arko, his hand still on Kojo’s arm. “You make your own choices. He’ll make his.”

“Who these tourists?” Arko looked directly at Kojo. “This is fam bro’, our fam … and they interferin’.”

“My family is Gran. It was you and Dad but while you’re doing what you’re doing, I don’t want to see you. So. Leave. Me. Alone.” Kojo was resolute and strong delivering his message. Ollie nodded at him in approval and Ben handed him some car keys, a silent instruction to go and wait in the car. When he’d gone, Ben turned his attention back to Arko.

“We’ve told you we’re not involved in crime,” he purred softly. “Not strictly true, my friend.” Indicating Callum and himself, he said, “We’re not criminals but that isn’t to say we don’t know any. Our families are not people you want to cross. However, much more useful, we’ve found, are our connections with the law. Our friend here,” he indicated Ollie, “is one of these. You see, we like to keep ourselves very much on the right side of the line. It makes us especially dangerous to small time scrotes like yourself. If you want to find yourself in a cell quicker than you can even say the word – and it is such a short word, cell – then, be our guest, go ahead and bother Kojo.”

Arko looked at the three men in front of him. These weren’t some soft, wannabe gangsters. These people could handle themselves and were connected. He finally realised that his brother had himself some powerful protectors.

“Who are you?” he moaned.

“Your worst nightmare,” said Ben sweetly. “Or nothing at all to do with you. You choose.”

“Are you going to leave Kojo alone?” asked Callum. “We want to hear you say it. That way, if you break your word, we can justifiably be very pissed off with you.”

“Yeah,” muttered Arko.

“Yeah what?” snapped Ollie. “Stop messing us around. Say what we want you to say.”

“Yeah, I leave Kojo be.”

“Good,” said Ollie, “Now let’s hope we can leave YOU be.”

+++

When Tom heard the story from Ollie, he was a little surprised. His Ollie was calm, measured, gentle. Of course Ollie was from London but it was this London, increasingly gentrified and relatively safe. It wasn’t like he had been brought up on an estate ruled by gangs; Ollie had been brought up in a well-to-do family on a strict diet of church and school.

“I’ve not seen that tough guy side of you,” he said, wondering how it fitted with Ollie’s blend of seemingly conflicting characteristics: tough and gentle, analytical and impetuous, serious and fun-loving. Ollie saw Tom’s unease and wanted to explain.

“I’m like it at work sometimes,” he started, seizing Tom’s hand as they sat side-by-side on the sofa. “I have to have an edge when I’m dealing with some of the firm’s clients. Some of them are seriously bad people and they sniff out any hint of weakness.” He turned his head, searching Tom’s face for signs of disapproval but not seeing any judgement. “I’ve been trying to find out who Jimmy Blackwell might be associated with … for Callum and Ben … and have had to talk to some real bad guys. I have to sound like they shouldn’t mess with me but it’s an act with them.” He paused knowing that today had not been an act; in the park, the real him had showed up. What would Tom think of him? “Today, I was angry. Angry that kids get dragged into stuff. Kojo is one of the lucky ones. He has a stable home with his gran and he’s been exceptionally fortunate to make friends with Lexi so he had us to help him. I didn’t need to pretend today. I was fucking furious.”

Tom hated anger – it scared him – but could see that the plight of these youngsters was something that mattered to Ollie which made complete sense for the man he was getting to know. Ollie’s variety of traits all supported his basic personality: he was honourable, kind and brave.

“What’s the answer for them, these kids?” he asked, stroking Ollie’s cheek as he pulled him to lay against him on their sofa. Ollie willingly relaxed into Tom’s hold.

“Steve Peacock has a plan for a complete culture change across the borough. It’s based on showing compassion and kindness towards troubled children, giving them hope, genuine connections and a sense of belonging, then supporting parents, teachers, social workers, health workers, police to all use this approach. It would take something ambitious like that to create genuine change.”

“Sounds like a good plan?” suggested Tom, massaging Ollie’s tense shoulders and kissing the top of his head.

“I know it’s going to sound like I lack hopefulness, but I think there are too many selfish people out there, and they’ll subvert his efforts.” Ollie had heard Steve talk about his pet project a few times but he could see Steve also had a growing sense of hopelessness.

“Got to try though, right?” Tom had led a very sheltered life and he now wondered if he needed to take off the blinkers. His work only brought him into contact with middle-class children whose parents could afford private music lessons. Reflecting on this, he realised he didn’t want to live his life so narrowly. “I’ve lived my life in a bubble of love and kindness,” he said. “Maybe it makes me naïve.”

“I’m the same,” said Ollie, not minding at all that Tom was so unworldly. It helped him be hopeful. “Look at us. We were brought up by loving parents, were supported through to a university education and have always had financial security. It doesn’t stop all difficulties but it’s a massive head start. I’m constantly impressed that Callum and Ben are where they are without any of those early advantages.” He turned his head to gaze up at Tom, wondering how he might react if he told him one answer for troubled youngsters. This relationship was very important to him and that meant being open and honest so he decided to air his thought.

“One day, although I don’t know how it could be managed with work, I want to foster or adopt a troubled youngster. Nobody wants them. It would be a way to make a difference. Small in the grand scheme of things but huge as well.” He was lying on Tom so couldn’t see his face but he didn’t stiffen or stop breathing so Ollie felt confident that he hadn’t made a mistake in mentioning it.

“Amazing,” said Tom, meaning it. “That would be an amazing thing to do.” He knew the real question that Ollie was asking without asking was if he might also want this. “I’ve never thought about it but now I’m going to,” he promised. Ollie smiled up at him. They were nowhere near this point in their relationship, but it was good to float his dreams and give Tom time to think about things. Much better than hiding things and springing them on him at a later date.

“Something else to think about. Callum and Ben are going to Kathy and Mike’s house in France for two weeks in the summer. There are also four small gites. It’s beautiful there, metres from the beach, quiet roads for cycling and walking, swimming pool. They’ve asked if we want to join them. The Peacocks are going, Frankie and Marcus as well.”

“Sounds wonderful,” said Tom, not needing to think about this proposal at all. “Message them, say yes.”

+++

The Rainbow Festival was a local event. Essentially it was a music festival, but there were fairground rides, hundreds of stalls and thousands of people. It went on over a weekend and although it was possible to come and go each day, especially as most people there lived nearby, the general practice was to camp … which was Callum’s and Ben’s most hated activity. For the life of them, they could not understand why the children loved it so much.

There were the usual four families going plus Kaffi and Kojo. Kaffi had made sure that Callum and Ben ended up responsible for him and Kojo by appealing to them on one of the many evenings he came round to their house.

“Lexi and Lily told us about it and we have a tent but my mum and dad don’t want to go and we’re not sixteen so we can’t go by ourselves. But they would let us go if you spoke to them and said we were going with you.” Callum and Ben were inclined to agree to this but knew they would have to set down some ground rules for Kaffi. Kojo didn’t give them any concerns.

“So we’d be responsible for you?” asked Callum.

“Well, it’s so that we can go. You won’t have to look after us,” explained Kaffi.

“Er no, Kaffi,” said Callum, giving him a clear ‘don’t mess with me’ look. “We WOULD be responsible and that means we WILL be looking after you.”

Kaffi frowned. This wasn’t quite what he had in mind.

“We have a very large tent with three bedroom pods and you’ll be in our tent,” said Callum. The tent was indeed huge. Callum and Ben had no intention of crawling around so one requirement had been for the tent to be tall enough to stand up in. They also refused to sleep on the floor so their bedroom pod was big enough to accommodate the numerous self-inflating mattresses that they stacked to achieve the required distance between them and the ground. “Lexi can share with Roman and Tyler, and you and Kojo can have the other pod.”

“We will have your ‘phone numbers and you will keep your ‘phones on you at all times. You’ll make sure we always know where you are. No booze. No drugs. Those are the rules, Kaffi,” listed Ben.

“Hook ups are allowed then,” cheeked Kaffi, having the scantiest knowledge of what a hook up might be and instantly regretting his big mouth as he saw Ben’s eyes narrow.

“No hook ups,” declared Ben. He glanced at Callum. Were they mad to be agreeing to this? Kaffi spotted the uncertainty and decided to rein himself in.

“I don’t mean it all, y’ know,” he mumbled. “I’m all talk my mum says.” Much as Ben and Callum thought.

“We’re more than happy to take you and Kojo so we’ll talk to your mum and Kojo’s gran,” smiled Callum. That smile worked wonders and Kaffi breathed a sigh of relief.

+++

Lexi, Lily, Bonny, Miles, Kojo and Kaffi were pretty much missing for the whole of the Friday evening, turning up only to sleep. Straight after breakfast, they disappeared again. The rule of making sure their parents always knew where they were had been immediately forgotten.

“How do we know they’re safe?” worried Emma. “They’re only thirteen.” She looked at her ten year old daughter Maisie and reflected on how quickly the time had passed since Miles was that age.

“We don’t,” reasoned Callum. “But we are right here and they know where we are. They can’t learn how to keep themselves safe by avoiding all risk and this is about as safe as risk-taking gets, I reckon.”

In the afternoon, the older children appeared again and took Roman, Tyler, Marek and Maisie to go on rides while the parents set up chairs and blankets some way back from the main stage, along with other similar groups of people.

“We’re not needed for anything except paying, organising the practicalities and transport,” complained Simon. He hated both camping and the Rainbow Festival and was planning to put his ear buds in, switch them on and everything else off and ignore everybody.

“This is the future. Just us, no kids. And it’s bright,” laughed Eddie, lounging in a folding chair, beer in hand. “I’m completely up for beers in the afternoon.”

Ben lay back on the picnic blanket, watching clouds scudding across the blue expanse and thinking that he preferred times gone by when the children had wanted to be with them but if the children didn’t need them now then he’d prefer to be enjoying some time alone with Callum. In his opinion, Emma, Simon and Theresa were always hovering over their children but they didn’t see what was right there in front of them and their kids didn’t talk to them; Eddie and Dan didn’t hover but they definitely applied a filter to what they saw and really had no clue what Lily was thinking and doing and … god, he was so sick of it all. Jumping to his feet, he looked at Callum.

“We’re going for a wander,” said Callum to the others.

“Let’s never fucking do this again,” muttered Ben as he stalked away. Callum knew the school gates were easier for him than for Ben but he got Ben’s mood entirely.

“Babe, stop,” he said. “Stop! Hey, come here.” He took Ben’s face in his hands and gently kissed him, then wrapped him in his long arms. “You don’t love it but Lex does and she can’t come by herself until she’s sixteen so we’ve got some years left. But let’s come with Frankie and Marcus or Ollie and Tom in future.” Ben didn’t say anything, just moved into the hug, getting as close as he could.

They walked down to the rides, spotting the children on the waltzers, laughing and shouting. They stopped for a while, watching from a distance, enjoying the joyous spectacle. Further away from the main stage, the stalls changed from food and drink to places to get your hair braided, sparkle painted and temporary tattoos pasted, to stalls selling huge wings and headdresses, to a small stage with an acoustic set playing, more food and drink stalls, followed by several stalls selling things for outdoor living (including one selling swing beds which had caught Ben’s attention earlier in the day) and finally, a silent disco which they decided to join. Just for a few minutes. Dancing together worked and Ben’s irritation dissipated. Slipping behind the silent disco tent, they walked towards a stand of trees where fairy lights were strewn across the branches and bark chip and logs had been put down. Oddly, it was empty.

“Weird,” whispered Callum, not wanting to break the silence.

“Not really.” Ben nodded further into the trees. They could just about make out a couple of figures, visited every now and then by other murky figures. The transactions were crystal clear to Callum and Ben. Drugs. Suddenly, Ben froze and started to back up pulling Callum with him.

“Arko!” he said when they were back in front of the silent disco. “We need to get back to Kojo.”

A frantic search of the fairground rides revealed that the children had moved on. Back at the main stage parents’ picnics, Ben and Callum discovered Roman and Tyler had returned and had been a little unsettled to find them gone. When questioned, they thought the older children had gone nearer to the stage but they weren’t sure.

“I’ll stay with them,” said Callum, seeing that the boys had picked up on the tension and needed one of them to stick around. “Text me.” Ben resumed the search for Kojo, checking his phone intermittently for replies to the texts he had sent. Pushing through the youngsters dancing nearer to the stage, he realised it was impossible – he was never going to find them here. He checked his phone again. Nothing.

He returned to Callum and the parents gathered round when they saw his worried face.

“What’s the matter? What’s happened?” asked Theresa, quickly starting to panic.

“We just need to find … Kojo,” said Ben reluctantly, not wanting them to see Kojo as a problem but knowing, in his heart, that was exactly what they were going to think.

“You’ve seen somebody here?” questioned Eddie perceptively. “The people who attacked him?” Ben and Callum looked at each other and Eddie picked up that he had guessed correctly. Simon looked at the other men not understanding what was going on; it just seemed to him that Callum and Ben attracted trouble. Why had they brought those two boys anyway?

“Is Miles in danger?” Emma was only ever concerned about her own children and her question irritated Ben.

“Not at all,” he snapped. “Just Kojo.”

“They didn’t eat with us,” said Eddie, trying to be helpful. “Said they were going to get pizza from the place near the slushie stall. Do you want me to come with you?” Ben nodded.

“I’ll be coming as well,” said Theresa. “I’ll bring Miles back,” she promised Emma who was frowning at Simon laying back in his chair with his eyes shut and earbuds in.

The three of them set off for the pizza stand but, when they arrived, the children were nowhere to be seen. Ben looked at his phone. Still nothing. He texted Callum to see if they had gone back to the main stage. He rang Lexi. No answer. Where would they have gone? Continuing past more food stands, they scoured the site. Theresa checked her phone every few seconds and seemed to be finding it very hard to believe that Bonny wasn’t replying. Eddie was clearly used to the lack of response.

“Maybe they went nearer to the stage,” suggested Theresa, looking dubiously at the large screen showing some old eighties rapper jumping around the stage.

“I’m not sure they’d be dancing to this, is all,” reasoned Ben. He looked down the field towards the silent disco. That would be more their thing, he thought. “Let’s check the silent disco,” he suggested more calmly than he felt as this brought them much closer to Arko. As they drew near, they could see the six children, oblivious to any danger, and why wouldn’t they be? Kojo was first to spot them and tuned in straightaway to Ben’s serious intent. He touched the arms of the others and led them out, their faces full of confusion as they spotted the adults’ worry. Theresa launched into an immediate rant at Bonny for going somewhere without telling her first.

“Theresa,” hissed Ben. “Let’s go. Away from here.” Theresa picked up on the urgency and stopped shouting. She had always been a big supporter of Ben and Callum but Bonny had never been put in danger before. Unable to see that Bonny was perfectly safe, all she could think was that this wasn’t alright and how angry she was with Ben.

“This is not alright, Ben,” she snapped, grasping Bonny’s hand with one of hers and Miles’ hand with the other. As they headed up the hill, Ben texted Callum.

_Got them. Going back to tent. Bring Ro and Ty? xx_

“I’m going to head back to our tent with Lexi, Kaffi and Kojo,” he said tiredly. Eddie and Theresa nodded and even Lexi didn’t argue.

On the way back to the camping field, Ben slung an arm around Kojo and explained to him what he’d seen, feeling the boy still when his brother’s name was mentioned and giving him a squeeze. He didn’t want him feel scared.

“This could happen any time but we’re going to help you think about that,” reassured Ben. “We’ll talk about what you should do if it happens when you’re by yourself, make some plans. You’re not on your own. Don’t worry.” Kojo felt safe with Ben but he WAS still worried. Most of the time, he wouldn’t be with his gran or Callum and Ben so he would have to be able to look after himself and he wasn’t quite sure how to do that.

Lexi and Kaffi followed them, feeling anxious because they didn’t know what was happening and hooking arms for comfort. Kojo had explained to them about his background and his brother but it was hard for them to understand being so far outside their personal experience. But Ben had hold of Kojo and that was all good.

“Your dad’s amazing,” commented Kaffi.

“Yeah, I know,” replied Lexi, watching Ben’s back thoughtfully with a dawning realisation that her dad came from a different world to her and because of that, sometimes, he was a tough guy, like a character in a book or a film as it still didn’t feel quite real that that’s what he was. She knew bits about his history but she hadn’t thought about it much. The bits she knew were like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle and now it was time for her to put them together and get a clear picture. And she would be doing the same for Callum, she thought, figuring that she needed the big picture about him as well.

Twenty minutes later, they were all back in the tent. Callum had picked up sweets on the way back and when he got in he made hot chocolates for everybody, expertly operating the camping stove that Ben had just spent ten minutes trying to turn on. He had also packed playing cards and before long they were busy playing games, eating sweets and teasing each other. The only thing that mattered was keeping the children relaxed. Kaffi and Kojo fitted in easily and Ben decided he was much happier spending the evening like this anyway … if only he didn’t have to sleep there.

+++

“I love this!”

Ben was reclining with a beer on their latest acquisition for the garden, a double hanging swing bed. That it was a big double had been evidenced by Lexi, Lily, Kojo and Kaffi sitting on it after school, chatting and playing on their phones. It was not quite dusk but the fairy lights draped over the frame were beginning to twinkle and Ben was hoping that his seductive lounging would entice Callum to give up deadheading the roses and join him. It worked.

“Budge up then,” instructed Callum, shoving Ben over after reaching into the cool box for a beer.

They lay for a few moments, listening to Lexi and her friends playing boules with Roman and Tyler.

“I love having kids,” murmured Ben, his eyes closed as he rested against Callum. “Did they tidy up after dinner?”

“Nope,” said Callum, breathing in the comfort and closeness of this balmy evening in the garden, the sweet, spicy scent of the roses mixing with the intense aroma from the tobacco plants. He was usually fastidious about clearing up straightaway but this evening he simply didn’t care.

“Okay, I take it back, I don’t love having kids,” moaned Ben, knowing the kitchen looked like a bomb had gone off.

They pulled themselves up a little, sitting side by side so that they could see the game. There was laughing and teasing but mainly there was concentration as the players were all trying very hard to win. The Mitchell-Highways had played many times and to say that Tyler and Roman were better at it than Lexi was an understatement but she had insisted that her brothers split up and had wisely chosen Kojo as her partner. He was easily the best of all of them leading Lexi to a rare victory.

“See that daddies?” she shouted as she high-fived her team mate and danced a victory lap of the gravel. Tyler launched himself at the swing to make it rock and crawled between Callum and Ben.

“Hey Tigg,” said Ben, shuffling across to make room and giving his boy a big squeeze and a sneaky tickle causing him to squirm and giggle. Roman sauntered over, looking speculatively at the swing, wondering if there was enough room for him. Callum pulled him on.

“Room for a big one Bubba,” he said. The four of them sat half on top of each other, chatting, cuddling, tickling and laughing. Lexi watched them, knowing if her friends weren’t there, she would have piled on top. Sometimes they all sat together in Callum’s and Ben’s bed and she loved those times. Lily watched, wondering when the Mitchell-Highways were going to get off the swing bed so that she, Lexi, Kaffi and Kojo could have it back. Kaffi watched, longing to join them; he loved snuggling with his parents and siblings on the sofa at home and this looked like it would be every bit as nice. Kojo watched, wondering what it was like to be cuddled like that; he’d never experienced it.

“You four could go and clear up the kitchen,” suggested Callum, tuning out Lexi’s sighs and rolled eyes. Her friends’ willingness to do the task stopped her complaining. By the time they had finished, Eddie had arrived to collect Lily and was having a beer with Callum and Ben, the three of them sitting like unwise monkeys in a row on the swing bed. Roman and Tyler had disappeared inside.

“Oh no,” exclaimed Kaffi , looking at the time on his phone. “I’ve still got that feature to finish. Have you all done yours?” The other three nodded and Kaffi frowned. “How? When?”

“We did it when we got here. You were just too busy chatting with Ro and Ty,” explained Lexi, laughing at his gloomy face. “Come on, I’ll help you do it now.” They headed back inside and Kojo looked uncertain for a moment, wondering if to follow them.

“Lils and me are going,” said Eddie, climbing off the bed. “Sit up here Kojo.” He had just been talking to Callum and Ben and knew they were looking for a chance to speak to the young boy so he grabbed his daughter and waved goodbye.

Kojo looked decidedly unwilling. He hadn’t thought about his troubles for several hours now, laughs had come easily and it had been a relief. If he sat down with Callum and Ben then they were going to talk to him about hard things and he was so tired of it.

“Would you feel more comfortable if we sat somewhere else?” asked Callum, wondering if he didn’t want to sit with them on the swing bed.

“No,” said Kojo, “It’s fine here.” He climbed on the bottom and sat cross-legged facing them.

“We wondered … did you talk to your gran about Arko being at the festival?” asked Callum. Kojo nodded.

“She said if I keep away from where the drugs are then I won’t run into him. She doesn’t want me going anywhere where there might be drugs so she says no more festivals, or parties, or going out at all.”

“Ouch,” said Ben. Kojo nodded sadly.

“I can come here. I can go to Kaff’s. That’s it.” He looked so glum that Callum and Ben were both tempted to give him a big hug - he looked like he really needed one. But he was not a little boy. They knew Kojo was fifteen in a couple of months and they weren’t sure he would welcome it. Even so, if he’d been their son, no matter how big, they would have hugged him anyway. They understood that his grandmother thought Kojo’s best chance was to grow up and quickly but their own view was that he needed some soft love.

“She’s worried about keeping you safe,” said Callum.

“I know,” replied Kojo. “There was my mum,” he hesitated as pain and confusion washed across his face, “… and then there’s loads of her friends have grandsons who’ve had knives and guns pulled on ‘em, or have even been stabbed or shot. I get it. It’s just … it’s just I feel like I’m hiding and I don’t want to be hiding.”

“How about we arrange for you and your gran to visit Ollie? Or he can visit you?” suggested Ben. They had already discussed this with Ollie and had come to realise that a black perspective was needed for Akua to be convinced. “He’ll be able to talk about how you can keep yourself safe.”

“’Cause he’s black? You think Gran will listen to him more?” Kojo thought this was possibly true.

“Not just that though,” reasoned Ben. “It’s his whole experience as a teenager, as a black teenager, yes, of course that’s part of it - he’s been through stop and search loads of times yet it’s never happened to us – why’s that? - but also as a good teenager, it will be more similar to you. Callum and me didn’t do well at school, Ollie did. Callum and me got in trouble, Ollie didn’t. He’s more like you.”

“Yeah, okay,” agreed Kojo. “Thanks.” He liked Ollie a lot and wondered if one day he could be a lawyer like him.

“Now get up here,” ordered Ben, patting the cushions next to him and getting out his phone. “I saw you killing Lex at that ridiculous game and Callum and me can’t get close to her numbers. So we want some tips.”

Kojo grinned and settled himself in between them to play games. If their house was one of the only places that he was allowed to visit, he thought maybe it wasn’t so bad.

+++

Akua decided she would bring her grandson to meet the Mitchell-Highways’ black lawyer friend at his house. You could tell a lot about a person by how they entertained at home, she believed.

“He’s gay as well, Gran,” advised Kojo as they walked to Ollie’s, knowing that his gran thought Callum and Ben were wonderful people but not sure of his gran’s views generally. He guessed she might not be huge on diversity but he was wrong.

“An’ why you tellin’ ME that?” huffed Akua. “I’m not ignorant of the world.”

They arrived at the smart Victorian house and Kojo grinned at his gran’s silent but clear approval. Steps UP to the front door of any house, even it was just the ground floor flat, was a sign of class.

“Mrs Bedwei, Kojo,” greeted Ollie as he opened the door and welcomed them inside. “This is my partner, Tom.”

“Hello to you both,” said Akua with stiff formality, sitting down on the beautiful sofa, appreciating its quality and noting the general cleanliness of the flat. Tom disappeared to make drinks and arrived back with a tray of snacks as well as the drinks. Akua approved. Even if they didn’t want anything, you should always offer your guests food.

“I can’t claim credit for the cooking,” smiled Ollie, noticing Akua’s eyes light up at the familiar Ghanaian snacks. “I was at my parents’ yesterday and these are my mum’s doing.” It was enough to break the ice and Akua followed up with lots of questions about Ollie’s family and, surprising him, also Tom’s. His farming background held a lot of interest for her.

Eventually, after a tour through their academic backgrounds and their employment histories (lawyer and teacher both deemed to be acceptable), they finally got round to Kojo and Akua’s tight control of his whereabouts.

“He’s fourteen. It’s too young for all that going out and hanging about. I won’t have it,” said Akua, lips pursed.

“Fifteen in September,” Kojo reminded her, to be silenced by a stern look.

“Kids are out and about younger than fifteen. I know you know that,” said Ollie in his calm and rational lawyerly voice. “Your worry is that the streets, even around here, come with dangers. And for a tall, black boy, looking older than he is maybe, there are even more dangers. I was one of those boys, Mrs Bedwei.”

“So be telling me then,” said Akua, significantly reassured by Ollie and his obvious success in life, “how you kept yourself out of trouble.”

“I stood tall and proud, refused to cower. But I was quiet, kept to friends I trusted and focused on school. My family especially my parents and my older brother helped as well. They talked to me every time I ran into trouble … and there was trouble: kids wanting me to get involved in gangs, tests to see if I could handle myself. I did learn to handle myself.”

“You mean fight,” said Akua, her disapproval evident. “Kojo will not be fighting.”

“The main part of handling yourself is being alert to danger,” argued Ollie. “Spotting it before it gets anywhere near you and keeping away from it. When Callum, Ben and I met Arko with Kojo, we didn’t fight, but we did make it clear that we knew people who he would not want to cross. We wanted him to take us seriously and that meant talking in a voice he would understand. I suppose we did want him to be scared. But, I’m going to be honest with you, if it had been necessary we would have defended ourselves.”

Akua was a pragmatic woman and she recognised the realism in Ollie’s account but she did not want this for her boy.

“Mrs Bedwei.” Tom spoke up hesitantly in his warm, northern accent, instantly inclining her to believe him. “The alternative is to be like me. I was attacked ten years ago. I was with a friend and he was killed in the attack. Neither of us were alert to danger, we’d both been brought up safe, far away from other people’s anger and prejudice. Neither of us were able to defend ourselves. I was devastated and frightened so I moved back to the farm and hid there for four years. It took me another four years to do anything other than teach. I went out to work, came home, that was it. I had to work hard to rebuild my confidence and it took me a long time to learn not to cower.”

It was persuasive. Akua looked at this quiet, gentle man with his simple honesty and at the bold man sitting by his side, proud and resolute. She thought about Callum with his calm strength and Ben with his big-hearted care. Professional, civilised and strong family men. They were all suitable to provide support for her grandson. 

“He is my grandson and I will be responsible for him,” she said proudly, “but he needs good men around him.”

“Tom and me,” offered Ollie tentatively, “would like to be part of Kojo’s support network. With Ben and Callum. I know they want to support him as well.”

Akua smiled widely. Kojo’s refusal to attend church had bothered her but she knew that the only reason she was so put out was because that was where she had been planning to find suitable male role models for him. These four men would do very nicely.

“So lucky boy,” she said addressing Kojo, “no need to be staying indoors then it seems.”

Kojo was somewhat bewildered. It was a strange turn of events but he was going to seize this opportunity. He didn’t have many friends but he really liked the ones he had and wanted to spend time with them, going to the places they were going, doing the things they were doing; he didn’t have much family but he had his wonderful gran and now these four father figures. Weird but very okay.

“Thank you,” he said to Ollie and Tom. “It means everything.”

+++

Ollie and his dad, George, had decided to work from home initially as they set up their new firm. Today was their first day and Ollie had invited his dad to his flat for their first meeting, the flat that he shared with his boyfriend, something he believed would challenge his dad so Tom and he had decided that Tom would be out. Baby steps.

“He plays the piano this man of yours?” asked George, admiring the instrument. Ollie handed him a framed photograph of him and Tom.

“Yes. I love listening to him play. This is him,” he said. George took the photo and spent a few seconds looking at it eventually looking up and handing it back to Ollie with a smile.

“He does not look forty,” he commented. “But you look happy, both of you. Is he not here?” Ollie had not considered that his dad might want to meet Tom. “Is he out because I’m here?” asked George perceptively. He had built himself up to meeting Tom and was disappointed that he wasn’t in.

“We … er … we didn’t … er …” Ollie wasn’t sure how to say yes.

“I was hoping to meet him,” said George evenly. “Maybe next time?” And with that, they got down to work. Ollie already had some clients passed to him from MHI.

“They go to Callum and Ben who will pass them my way if they need legal representation. Mostly their clients need divorce or family lawyers which obviously is not our thing but MHI have a growing reputation for resolving problems with the law so it could be a good source of clients for us. They’ll also do any investigating we need.” He weighed up his dad’s mood. It seemed positive. “Would you like to meet them Dad? They are my best friends as well and I’d like you to meet them. Tom’s at their house so we could go there and you could meet him as well. If you want to.” Ollie could hear that it might sound as though he was pleading but he wanted this hurdle jumped as soon as possible. It was stressing him out.

George watched his son struggling to contain his hopefulness. He knew he shouldn’t have a favourite child but he did and it was Ollie. Ollie had always had a sensitivity that his other children lacked, an honesty and an open-heartedness that were such rare qualities in these times of carefully manicured profiles. He was bright and brave and George admired him. How was he gay? How had that happened? But George was determined to try to accept this about him so he found himself walking round to Callum’s and Ben’s house. He was about to have lunch with four gay men.

The first thing that stuck George was the warmth between the four of them. He believed that strong relationships were the essential ingredient of happiness and he was glad that his son had such good friends. It was clear to him that Tom was a little nervous, appropriately in his opinion – you should be nervous meeting your partner’s parents – but his connection with his son was abundantly clear and he was extremely likeable. In fact, all three of his son’s friends were extremely likeable. They were interesting, smart men, obviously highly principled and honourable. George’s kind of men. It was an epiphany for him about the ignorance of his prejudice.

“You have children, Oliver tells me,” he mentioned to Callum and Ben. He had previously thought that gay couples had no business having children but something about this home was giving him pause for thought.

“We have a wall of photos,” said Callum. “Would you like to see?” He took George through to the room off the kitchen, Ollie trailing them. “This is Lexi, Ben’s daughter from an attempt to be straight when he was sixteen. Her mum lives in New Zealand – they talk every week - and I have adopted her.” Unable to explain the feeling to himself, and very surprised by it, George was saddened that Ben had felt that he should try to be straight and simultaneously proud that Ollie had never felt he had to do this. “This is Tyler,” continued Callum, “and this is Roman. They are my late sister’s boys. Ben and I have adopted them.” George spent some time looking at the children. They looked strong and happy; this was a thriving family. He saw extended family, aunts and uncles, grandparents, and friends including joyous pictures of his son. Then he saw Phil.

“Phil Mitchell?” His face clouded over. Ollie panicked, aware that he had not disclosed Callum’s and Ben’s parentage, but Callum was unashamed.

“Ben’s dad. My mum is Jackie Highway. You may have heard of her as well. We are not our parents, Mr Hargreaves. But they ARE our parents and we will not hang our heads in shame because of it.”


	7. You don't have only yourself to depend on

Ben had been right about Meg. She hadn’t gone far. Her bolt-hole was a tiny basement flat on a road off Church Road where Callum and Ben lived, chosen specifically for its proximity to them. She’d thought that, when she needed to run from them, the last place they would look would be on the next street plus it would give her a chance to keep tabs on them without having to go too far. The flat had a spacious kitchen-living room, a much less spacious bedroom and a miniscule shower room. When she had taken it on the previous autumn, she had decorated and furnished it well, bought computers and set herself up ready for survival mode. Looking back, it was as if she knew then that she would end up here for some time. What she hadn’t known was that she would be running instead from Jackie and the police and she certainly hadn’t known how much comfort it would bring her to be near Callum and Ben.

The rest of the house was owned by an old, agoraphobic recluse and hoarder. He had previously let the flat to his brother, then his nephew, then his great-nephew who, given that he didn’t have any offspring to carry on the family tradition, had taken it upon himself to find a new tenant before he moved out. His Facebook post was answered within seconds and the attractive girl who wanted the flat could have had anything she wanted from him. She came round, liked the flat, didn’t seem to like him that much, but, hey, he was moving away so nothing lost there, and the deal was done. His great-uncle never paid any attention to what Meg was doing with the flat. She never spoke to him, in fact he never saw or heard her, which was a considerable improvement on his relatives, and she paid the rent on time without fail. It suited him perfectly.

Meg was getting tired of wearing the fat suit – the weather was getting warmer and it was horribly hot in the suit - but didn’t dare go out without it on. She was familiar with how MHI matched people on CCTV recordings so she was also wearing a stacked left shoe to change her gait and had a new nose prosthetic but still she wondered if it would fool Ben if he was looking closely. He was easily the most observant person she had ever come across, although both Frankie and the police inspector, Amanda Peacock, were very good as well. Fortunately, she hardly needed to go out at all. She was trying really hard to remember to eat, setting alarms to remind her. Not wanting anyone to know where she was, she didn’t dare organise any online deliveries but the little Tesco stocked everything she needed so a quick trip there weekly was sufficing. It was nerve-wracking though as everyone she knew also used this shop regularly. Miraculously, she had not once seen any of them there.

Her set of photos brought her immense comfort. She had scrutinised each one, memorising them exactly so that she could remember them and bring them easily to mind. Her favourite one was the one of her and Ben mainly because it showed her a view of herself – of her being happy - that she had never seen and didn’t know existed. She had looked at it many times and each time she became a little bit more certain that Ben liked her, finally working out why this mattered so much to her. Frankie, Marcus and Callum all had a default of liking people; Ben was the opposite – his default was mistrust which meant that when he liked you, you could be absolutely certain of it. Another favourite was the one with her, Roman, Tyler and the pizza. They were uncomplicated, kind, funny boys who made her laugh, surprising herself with how much she liked laughing. She missed the Mitchell-Highways, Frankie, Marcus and Charlie.

Charlie regularly left her digital breadcrumbs to follow. At first he and Frankie had wanted to know how Jackie knew about Noah. It had come as a horrible shock to Meg that she had shared this information with Jackie and it had got a man killed but she hadn’t wanted to admit this to Charlie and Frankie - it was hard enough admitting it to herself - so she said nothing. When Callum and Ben were detained, her anxiety spiked and she forgot to eat for four days, seriously affecting her recovery. She weighed herself daily, sometimes more than once, and saw herself dropping below fifty kilos again. The difference from before was that she now understood clearly the idea of food as fuel. Without it, she would break. It was that simple. It took her two weeks of building up from tiny meals at two hour intervals before she could eat a normal amount without throwing up. It was another week before she had enough energy to leave the house.

The weeks had rolled by into mid-June and although here was no view of the sky from anywhere in the flat, Megan could guess that it was a perfect and pure blue, her favourite colour. It was almost worth going outside to find out. She had been here since mid-April and had lately started to make good progress, now weighing fifty-four kilos and fitting into her clothes again. She started to do an online exercise class and some yoga and was beginning to feel stronger. But best of all, she could mentally focus and started to do some digging to help Callum and Ben. Initially, she had been sure they would realise what had happened and would help her. She’d wondered what was taking them so long, thinking they would have found a way out for her before now. But now she knew that she needed to help them first.

+++

Manish trawled back through all of the CCTV to look for Meg in disguise. It took him a while because it wasn’t related to any of the lines of enquiry he was supposed to be working on and he had to snatch brief spells of time here and there. Even so, it didn’t take him too long to find her and trace her journey. She had got off at the station nearest to Callum’s and Ben’s house but had taken a circuitous route to get to the other end of the high street; he lost her at several points along this route and the times suggested she might have stopped somewhere.

Gathering his things at the end of the day, he decided he was going to retrace that last part of her journey and called Joe. This was something they could do together and he arranged to meet him at a gay bar near to there, The Prince Albert. It was an unusual place, he reflected when he arrived, more like a café than a club, but he remembered having been there before with a cute guy called George who’d said he knew the son of the owner. They had arrived late at night and the place had had a slightly seedy atmosphere that he couldn’t square with the bright and clean place he was in right now.

“What can I get you?” said the bartender, an attractive older woman with a gravelly voice. The owner? he wondered. She looked very familiar and he stared at her trying to place her.

“Flat white, please, almond milk if you have it.” He couldn’t have sounded more Shoreditch if he’d tried and he was embarrassed to see the smirk between this woman and the other bartender, a slightly younger woman with her pink hair in space buns.

“I’ll bring it over,” said the older woman. Joe arrived while he was waiting and came over after ordering his similar coffee from the bar.

“Interesting place,” he said, looking around as he sat down. “Have you been here before?”

Manish nodded and Joe knew not to ask any more questions.

“I wonder if Ben and Callum come here,” mused Manish, smiling at Kathy as she arrived with their drinks.

“Do you know Ben and Callum?” she asked curiously.

“Yeah, we’ve been working with them,” explained Manish, racking his memory again. How did he know her? “We’re police. We know them a little socially as well. Do you know them? They must be regulars here if the staff know them.” They were surprised when Kathy laughed aloud.

“You could say that,” she chuckled. “I’m Ben’s mum. Kathy.” Manish remembered then where he’d seen her - the photo tile wall at Ben’s and Callum’s house. He was a little surprised that in all the time Ben’s photo had been on the situation room board in the Organised Crime Unit with a line firmly drawn to his dad, little mention had been made of his mum. He had a vague memory that she had been separated from Ben during his teenage years. Those were the years he’d been in trouble so maybe his mum was a positive force in his life.

“Nice to meet you Kathy. I’m Manish. This is my partner - life not work - Joe,” smiled Manish.

“Hi,” said Joe, surprised to be introduced as Manish’s life partner. He was usually introduced simply as Joe.

“Nice to meet you too. I hope we see you here again.” With a friendly smile, Kathy left them.

After finishing their coffees they went outside to retrace Meg’s steps. Their walk took them past a local Arts Centre at which point Manish checked his watch. It corresponded with one of the potential stops in Meg’s journey. Why might she have come here? thought Manish, looking around to see what else was around: offices that looked like nobody worked there, disused warehouses and a factory unit that made chains. It wasn’t promising. As they passed by, a voice called out,

“Manish! Joe!” Looking through a large open doorway, they spotted Frankie heading towards them, her big smile signalling that she was pleased to see them.

“Hey, Frankie,” greeted Manish. He explained about the CCTV and the missing parts of Meg’s journey.

“I don’t remember seeing her that day,” frowned Frankie. “Then again I don’t think I was here. And if she was in disguise, Marcus may not have recognised her.” She didn’t doubt however that Meg had come to the Arts Centre as there was nothing else in the area to interest her. Only a couple of days earlier than that day, Frankie had shown her the Arts Centre. Had she seen something on that visit? “I’ll come with you,” she said, wanting to know where Meg had ended up.

They walked to the next point at which she had been seen, which was near the other end of the high street and from there to the last point she had been seen.

“She was definitely heading towards Ben and Callum’s house,” declared Frankie. “It’s only five minutes carrying on from here. But she didn’t go there. We know that.”

“This is a residential area with thousands of houses. She could be in any one of them,” said Joe. “We need her to show her face again.”

“Or she could have been dropping something off at Ben and Callum’s and have gone on somewhere else,” suggested Manish. He thought that seemed more likely. Frankie was thoughtful. She was going to go back to the Arts Centre and check the CCTV there and then she would come back and check Ben’s and Callum’s CCTV. Hopefully she could work out what Meg had been doing before these coppers.

+++

Charlie knew Meg had been following his breadcrumbs because he had set little traps to catch her. He abhorred the idea of snooping so he was having some issues with what he was doing but he was very concerned for Meg’s safety and that was trumping his principles.

But today he was following the trail she had laid for him. It had been such a relief to have some contact from her - it had been ten weeks – that he had had to lie down for an hour. When his mind switched on again, he returned to his computer. Meg was leading him into the system she had built for Jackie but he quickly grasped he was being pointed at Debs Tomsett. He paused. It wasn’t altogether clear what Meg was trying to show and, thinking that he needed a second pair of eyes, he texted Frankie. Frankie and Meg always seemed to be in tune with each other.

Charlie: _Got a route to Debs Tomsett. Can I share?_

Frankie: _I’m in the office. Show me_

They followed link after link, picking up details of Debs’ communications, trawling through bank accounts and building a picture of her network of associates. After a couple of hours of digital exploring, Frankie popped out and when she returned they called in Callum and Ben.

“We have connected Debs Tomsett and Jimmy Blackwell, and have some communication between them.” said Charlie, excitedly. He had been going round in circles on this for weeks and making progress was intoxicating. “Although it doesn’t mention the contract on Noah.”

“What does it mention?” asked Ben.

“You and Callum. She had followed you or she’d had you followed. She knew where you were and when and got details of all of your friends and when they visited your house. She gave Jimmy your address.”

“And,” said Frankie, pausing to add tension to her reveal, “we also have the money trail, from Debs to Jimmy.” She grinned widely at Callum and Ben.

“It looks like Debs has control of the money for Jackie’s operation so it doesn’t necessarily tie Jackie in, though,” added Charlie. He and Frankie were still looking very pleased with themselves.

“Okay, what else?” laughed Callum.

“So we might not have anything tying him directly to Noah, but we located Jimmy today … and we have him bugged.” Frankie was jubilant. Charlie pulled up the trackers, cameras and listening devices that Frankie had placed only a couple of hours ago.

“Wow, you two are the goods!” exclaimed Ben, fully impressed. “What’s next?”

“We’re ready to share with our police friends,” said Frankie. “Shall I message them?”

“Go for it,” agreed Callum, trying not to get ahead of himself and feel hopeful. Charlie’s and Frankie’s excitement was infectious.

Adam and Joe turned up within half an hour.

“Do you know where Meg is?” asked Joe after he had heard the account. “My boss wants her brought in. She likes the theory that Ben and Callum asked her to ask Jackie to organise the murder of Noah …”

“What?” interrupted Frankie. “Even if we knew where she was, we wouldn’t give you Meg for you to take her in for questioning.” Frankie’s belligerence didn’t go down well if Joe’s irritation was anything to go by.

“As we’re all on the same side here, although sometimes it feels that some of you haven’t grasped that,” he snapped, fixing Frankie with a furious glare, “I was going to ask you to think of how to keep Meg away from my boss.” Frankie had the grace to look a little shamefaced.

“We have something as well,” offered Adam. “It was from just a few days ago when Debs visited Jackie.” He plugged his phone into a screen and brought up a CCTV recording. “Please can you lip-read, Frankie?” he said, signing the final question. He’d practised it several times and was pleased when she quickly signed ‘thank you’ to him.

“Jackie says something and Debs says ‘Time. He could do the job quickly’ … can’t see Jackie’s face or Debs, she’s looking around when she speaks … something about the Old Bill … Jackie says something then ‘good citizens’. Aargh, they’re both looking away again … then Jackie says ‘my boys … in hot water over somethin’ they didn’t do’ … there’s some more chat … they sit in silence … Jackie leaves, it’s the best view of her face. She says ‘Phil knows it was you. So you might want to sort it quickly.’ That’s it.”

They all looked at each other daring to hope that this was an actual breakthrough.

“So Debs hired Jimmy?” clarified Joe. “Jackie is careful there not to implicate herself. Trouble is that we think she says what she wants us to hear on the visitor room CCTV. She is trying to manipulate us.”

“Still it’s interesting that she’s throwing us Debs,” mused Adam. “Debs has obviously upset her over something.”

“We’ve talked to my mum about not getting in our way of being good people,” said Callum. “We remind her a lot that it is what we want, hoping that will encourage her to keep her stuff away from us.” He shrugged as if to say he had no idea if it worked. “My feeling is that she didn’t want Ben and me dragged into all of this. D’you agree, Ben?”

“Yeah,” nodded Ben. “So was it Debs messing up or did she deliberately set out to implicate us?” Everybody in the room pondered the question. There was nothing in the information collected by Charlie and Frankie to answer it.

“Right,” said Joe. “Let’s go through it slowly and I’m going to pretend I’m my gaffer and think of as many questions as I can to load the blame on Callum and Ben. We all feel like we know that this is telling us clearly that Debs did the hiring but I know what she’s like my boss. Everything has to be very obvious. I’m gonna ask all of the stupid questions she would ask.” They settled down and started at the beginning.

+++

A ‘Thank You’ exploded in confetti on her screen and Meg knew Charlie had followed the trail she’d set for him. He loved all those teenage gif things. The urge to message him and MHI was growing in her but she was wary of a digital message. They never ever disappeared. Ever. Maybe she could send an actual letter, a physical one on paper, put a stamp on an envelope and post it. Did that give anything away? She had an idea that postmarks showed the place of posting and quickly searched for information. It was true. If she posted a letter locally, that could be seen, but the main problem was that she didn’t want to travel too far from her sanctuary and she definitely wanted to avoid CCTV and she knew the nearest post box was towards the high street where CCTV would capture her. Did it matter at this stage that they knew she was hiding locally? If not, couldn’t she risk posting the letters at MHI? Even in disguise, they would know it was her. They had cameras everywhere so she was never going to be able to do it unseen. What was the problem with them seeing her?

The idea continued to grow and Meg knew she was going to have to do it. Not doing it was stopping her from concentrating on other things. It took a few goes to compose her note.

_All of you – I miss you._

_Ben – I’m coming back. I said I would. Please_

She wanted to ask them to come and look for her, to find a way to keep her safe, to make everything all alright again. ‘Please’ seemed to encapsulate all of that.

The little Tesco didn’t sell envelopes so she had had to make do with taking a double page out of her notebook and folding it, then securing it with scotch tape that the little Tesco did sell.

Leaving the house as herself was not daunting as she had expected but liberating instead. It took less than one minute to walk to Callum’s and Ben’s house but she took a longer route – four minutes – so that she approached their house from the opposite direction. It was early, too early for the Mitchell-Highways to be up, but there was a surprising amount of people around. Even though it was not long after dawn, the sun was already burning off the early silver haze and Meg felt like she was emerging herself. She slipped her paper through the letterbox, smiled quickly at the camera and left.

+++

“She wants us to help her,” said Callum. “Well she’s asking YOU to help her.” Callum was a little miffed that Meg had singled out Ben. He’d always been there for her just as much as Ben had, more in fact, as Ben had held back from being fully welcoming to Meg until just before she disappeared. Frankie and Charlie were both more drawn to Ben, Kojo turned to Ben more than he did to Callum. Callum wondered if he was doing something wrong? Ben was often short-tempered, impatient and mardy whereas he was calm, patient and always, always friendly. He suddenly felt very bored with himself. Here he was, married to this vibrant, captivating man with a huge heart and he thought it was enough to be … nice.

“What do you even see in me, Ben?”

Ben snapped his head up in surprise.

“What?”

“I’m asking what it is that interests you about me.” Callum stared at him hoping, fervently hoping that he had an answer.

“Where’s this coming from?”

“It’s a question, Ben. When you answer it with another question, it makes me think you don’t have an answer.”

“What?” Ben was thoroughly confused. Callum was looking at him like he’d slipped up but what had he done?

“Oh forget it, Ben.” Callum tried to make it a dignified exit but he knew it was really a strop worthy of a diva. He didn’t care and slammed the front door behind him.

He knew he’d got lucky with Ben. His previous boyfriends had been handsome and not a lot else whereas Ben was sexy, emotionally complex, interesting. He used to think he had stepped out of his old, empty, monochrome life into Ben’s life, full of people and colour and warmth, but now he knew they had built something together with both of them contributing so he definitely belonged in their shared life. However, maybe as an individual he had got lost somewhere.

A few minutes later, he arrived at Ollie’s and Tom’s. Who else could he talk to? Stu and Whitney? They would be too much for him over Ben. Frankie and Marcus? They would be more balanced, he supposed, but Ben and Frankie were very close. He wanted an unbiased opinion and Ollie and Tom were evenly close to both of them, lived near and he was confident they would understand.

It was a hot day, windows had been flung wide open and, making his way past the parked cars in front of their house, he could hear a piano being played. It was Elton John’s ‘Your Song’ and Callum found himself singing along. Pressing the buzzer, he settled down on the low wall that edged the steps up to the front door, preparing to enjoy the music except it stopped abruptly. Seconds later, Tom opened the door.

“Callum, hi!” Tom was dressed in shorts, a baggy tee and flip-flops and, with his hair tied back and his tanned skin, he looked like he’d come from the beach. “Come in,” he urged. “Ollie’s working but he’ll probably be taking a break soon.”

Callum followed him in. Their flat was the only flat on the ground floor and the other two flats in the building had their own doors at the side leading to stairs upwards. This also meant that Ollie and Tom had sole use of the garden at the back which Tom had turned into a lush oasis showing a flare for gardening that Callum shared.

A new feature in the flat was a baby grand piano in the bay window. “That looks amazing there,” Callum said. “Sounds amazing as well,” he added, figuring that it had been Tom he had heard playing.

“Yeah, mum and dad sent it down,” smiled Tom, stroking the instrument lovingly. “It’s my piano from home. We’ve had to lose a couple of chairs to give it a home but worth it, yeah? … Do you sing, Callum? I’ve seen you singing. You seem to know the words for everything.”

“Some,” admitted Callum. “I … I used to spend a lot of time by myself. I’d play music and get the lyrics and sing along. Nobody listening, just me.”

“Come and sing. I’ll play,” invited Tom. He could see Callum was agitated but not quite ready to talk, so, in Tom’s view, singing would relax him. It wasn’t Callum’s view.

“What? Sing as you play? Oh, hmm, I’m not sure …” blustered Callum, but Tom was already seated at the piano and beckoning him over.

“Elton John?” he asked. Callum gulped and nodded.

“Yeah, okay. You were playing ‘Your Song’. I know that one.”

Four songs later, Callum had forgotten his nerves and was singing along gustily when Ollie came in.

“Wow, you can really sing,” he complimented.

“I know right,” enthused Tom. “That rich tenor voice, gorgeous.” Callum blushed at the attention.

“What other secret talents have you been hiding, eh?” laughed Ollie, then glanced at Callum’s phone buzzing on the coffee table. “You do know your phone’s going crazy?”

“It’ll be Ben,” mumbled Callum. “I left like Lexi having a tantrum. I didn’t say where I was going.” He took the phone as Ollie handed it to him. Thirty one messages from Ben. He sent a quick, grumpy reply.

_31 msgs? not even gonna read them is fine back soon x_

“So frantic Ben is going to arrive here in about five minutes?” asked Ollie, experienced in the usual format of Mitchell-Highway meltdowns.

“No, I didn’t tell him where I was,” said Callum, feeling even more childish and conscious of the heat of embarrassment colouring his face. Ollie and Tom looked at each other, silently agreeing to get involved in this squabble.

“Okay,” said Tom slowly. “So talk to us. What’s up?”

If he wasn’t already feeling about twelve, Callum decided he definitely would have after he’d described his problem.

“I sound like I’m competing with him to be everybody’s favourite,” he lamented. “It’s a bit pathetic.”

“You know you stand back, don’t you?” asked Tom. Callum looked confused. “You stand back while Ben is centre-stage. Honestly, you do and you look dead proud of him. You like the showman about him, right?”

“Well, yeah, I suppose, yeah,” agreed Callum. He loved seeing Ben in his element, confident and happy, showing off to the crowd.

“And,” said Tom, warming to his theme. “Ben’s nosy, asks loads of questions. You hold back, wait for people to tell you stuff. So it might seem like he’s more interested.”

“Part of that nosiness is that he is ridiculously observant, he doesn’t miss anything,” added Ollie. “Including all the things people don’t want him to see. Ben can be a proper nuisance for invading your privacy.”

“It’s not really about Ben,” explained Callum. “He’s amazing. I know that. I love him for all of him, light and darkness. He’s exciting, interesting, loving, just fuckin’ amazin’. It doesn’t surprise me that people are drawn to him. I’ve just lost touch with who I am.” He looked at his friends, appealing for support.

“Okay, a reminder,” started Tom. “Adventurous – you wouldn’t have chosen Ben otherwise.”

“A leader,” added Ollie. “Your family and your business would both be a fucking disaster if Ben was running the show.”

“Honest,” offered Tom. “You say what’s on your mind. It’s comforting … to me at least. I like straightforward people. You’re an over-thinker like Ollie. It’s not a bad thing,” he laughed as Ollie looked offended.

“Strong,” said Ollie. “I think your calm strength is a big thing about you. And you’re brave. You wouldn’t hesitate to put yourself in harm’s way if the situation called for it.”

“Fun,” said Tom. “You’re not the extrovert that Ben is, but you don’t need to be. You’re great company, a right laugh. Your sense of humour is quirky, dead funny.”

Callum laughed at them both and their volley of compliments.

“Okay, okay, I’m not THAT needy. But thank you.” It was genuinely meant. They had made him feel a lot better about himself.

“So get home and reassure the truly needy one,” laughed Tom as Callum stood up, ready to go.

+++

When Callum arrived home, there was no sign of Ben but he found a note left on the table in the room off the kitchen. The envelope was addressed simply ‘Callum’. Callum recognised Ben’s dreadful handwriting and pulled out a folded sheet. Opening the sheet he saw the first two words ‘Callum is …’ and he knew what this was.

_Callum is …_

_the owner of the most heart-melting smile in the world_

_the giver of the best hugs and the one who my body fits like we’re just one_

_someone to sing tunes with, to joke and tease and laugh with, to always find lightness and fun_

_the one who remembers to buy the sweets, pack the games, always thinking ahead_

_a strong and steady rock in a turbulent sea, safe in the worst storm_

_brave, always ready to put himself on the front line to protect others_

_the most amazing dad making sure our children grow up to be good people_

_infinitely loving of me and our children, our family and our friends_

_unfailingly honest, trustworthy, and with him I feel safe, I know who I am_

_my lover_

_my world_

Callum read it through a few times feeling his heart swell and then looked around wondering where Ben had gone, his gaze alighting on one of the photo tiles where he could see a small red paper heart stuck on with blu-tac. He smiled to himself wondering if this was some sort of clue. Ben loved a treasure trail. In the picture, the heart was stuck on a bench in the garden so that’s where Callum went next. Sure enough, there was a second bigger red paper heart stuck to the real bench. Unsticking the heart, Callum sat on the bench and looked at what he could see. Straight ahead of him was the back door into the office where he spotted another heart taped to the window. After making his way back up the garden and going into the office, he saw the next heart straightaway on a computer keyboard. He smiled, knowing what he was supposed to do. Tapping a key, a screen came alive showing the camera view of the hallway. On the screen, Callum could see a large paper heart that definitely had not been there when he had got home. So Ben was ahead of him. The huge paper heart had another heart stuck on top and Callum unstuck it to reveal a small drawing of a … a coffee bean? Callum had been fully expecting a clue that led him to the bedroom, so this was a surprise. They had bought a fantastic coffee machine for their new kitchen so this was where Callum headed. Somebody had recently been making coffee and there were two cups of fresh coffee each sitting on a paper heart. Still Ben was nowhere to be seen. There didn’t seem to be another clue though. Callum put his collected hearts on the counter and noticed that in the bottom of each heart there was a tiny letter, which, when he rearranged them, spelled out ‘I LOVE YOU’…

“From the bottom of my heart…s,” said Ben. Callum spun round at his voice. Ben stepped forward quickly and put his arms around Callum’s waist. “Did I answer the question?” he asked, nodding at the ‘Callum is…’ paper in Callum’s hand.

“What question?”

“What is it about you that interests me?” said Ben. His smile didn’t have his usual brash confidence and Callum sensed that it was important to Ben to have answered the question well. “I also answered the question ‘what is it about you that doesn’t interest me’?” added Ben, as if more was needed.

“You did?”

“Yes. It’s on the other side of the paper.”

Callum laughed aloud at that, knowing that the other side was blank.

“Thank you,” he murmured, nuzzling Ben’s neck. “We’re having coffee? It’s not where I expected YOU to finish a treasure trail.”

“We have work to do my horny husband,” said Ben piously. “We can’t afford to be distracted by your insatiable demands and desires.” Chuckling to himself, he perched at the counter and sipped his coffee. Callum shook his head in amused disbelief and joined him.

+++

Phil had been thinking hard. His number one priority had been to remain eligible for parole. He wanted to get back to Sharon; he missed her more than he had ever expected. And now Ben was married with three children and Louise was back in England with Peggy and another baby on the way. She had sworn him to secrecy but he couldn’t wait for this to be something he could talk about with Sharon. They had five grandchildren (almost). Five. It was exciting. He had enough money for his retirement and he didn’t need to be involved in the business although a little extra here and there wouldn’t hurt if he could be sure it couldn’t be tracked back to him. He’d started to imagine a happy life on the outside.

But Ben’s story about how Jimmy Blackwell had tried to fit them up was bothering him. If it had been him, Phil, doing the fitting up, Callum and Ben would have been locked up by now. Jimmy’s mistakes were laughable. Why had Jackie chosen Jimmy for the hit? There were MUCH smarter hitmen out there who would have made sure the body was never found and would have made doubly sure that they were never caught. Why Jimmy Blackwell? He was nothing more than a thug and Jackie must know it. Phil had put out some feelers and had discovered that Jackie’s main woman on the outside, Debs Tomsett, had done the hiring. Another little bird told him that Debs was irritated by Jackie’s new found love of her family, thinking that it was distracting her boss from their operation and that maybe they needed a new leader. Phil had his own carrier pigeon network and had made sure that Jackie heard about this. 

So, did he want to get involved in dealing with Debs and Jimmy? It was risky and could come back to give him a big bite in the rear at which point Ben would be furious. Every single visit he spent at least half of it telling Phil to keep his nose clean. But, he was certain that Debs Tomsett had engineered the situation so that Noah’s body was found and Ben and Callum were implicated. She clearly wanted them out of the way and Phil could not just sit back and allow her to interfere with his family. If he was smart, he could sort this out without it touching him, but if it came down to a choice between Ben and Callum going down and him getting a longer stretch, it was a no brainer. His number one priority now was to keep Ben and Callum out of trouble.

+++

While Phil was ruminating, Jackie was also mulling over the decision to hire Jimmy Blackwell. Jimmy fucking Blackwell. Really? She couldn’t remember anybody ever having used him. He was devoid of empathy which was useful in a killer. He was fit and strong, also useful. But he only seemed to think a couple of steps ahead and that was problematic. Debs had been evasive when she had been to see Jackie, feeling guilty for messing up in hiring Jimmy, Jackie had assumed. But there had been murmurings of Debs taking control that had reached her so she had more questions for her second in command and had summoned her.

Today, Debs sat in front of her, her smile wary but in place.

“Why him?” asked Jackie, confident Debs would know exactly who she was talking about.

“Timing. He could do the job quickly.” Debs feigned calm but inside she was squirming. She had chosen Jimmy precisely for his ineptitude. Her plan had been to implicate Callum and Ben but several steps away from her. Now she couldn’t even remember what she had thought that might achieve. Jackie still had a lot of influence on the outside and Debs had every reason to be scared of her. She was a maniac.

And now there was word that she had Phil Mitchell to worry about as well.

“He led the police to my boys. Surely you understood that I did not want that.” Jackie’s voice was low and measured and she smiled softly at Debs but the menace was unmistakable.

“They can look after themselves,” protested Debs. She had been on the receiving end of Callum smashing her own knuckle duster into her cheek, not something she was going to forget in a hurry. “Why do we care if the Old Bill catch up with ‘em?” That was a mistake. Jackie’s eyes narrowed momentarily but not for so short a time that Debs was left in any doubt that Jackie cared about this a great deal.

“They are not us, Debs, my lovely,” said Jackie, still soft and smiling. “They are on the other side. Good citizens.” She understood very well what Callum and Ben wanted and she was determined that they would get it. Like any good mother.

“Since when have we given a shit about good citizens?” questioned Debs frustratedly, thinking that her own daughters had never had the chance to be good fucking citizens.

“Since they were MY son and MY son-in-law. You do understand why I’m annoyed?” Jackie emphasised the final word and Debs’ understanding instantly solidified. “Because,” Jackie continued in her saccharine tone, “if my boys can find themselves in hot water over somethin’ they didn’t do, it could ‘appen just as easily to your girls. Stands to reason, don’t it? I’m not sayin it would happen, but it could. Anythin’ could happen.”

For a few moments, the two women regarded each other. They had been working together for more than thirty years and their strength was in their partnership: the two of them, plus Joan and Brenda. Total loyalty. Utter dependability. No children allowed to throw spanners in the works. But since that day when Ben Mitchell turned up at the estate flat, Jackie had changed. After almost a lifetime of keeping her distance, she had become obsessed with her youngest son and his boyfriend. Debs could see that Callum and Ben were something to be proud of; hell, if they were her boys she’d be chuffed to bits. But it should never have got in the way of Jackie’s decision making. Since two years ago, there had been only Debs was on the outside and, in her view, that meant she should take the lead. It didn’t matter that Jackie saw her as her proxy; Jackie was INSIDE, what could she do? The trouble for Debs was that it didn’t matter; inside, outside, Jackie was in control.

“You do not lead, Debs, my lovely. You lead FOR ME,” Jackie said eventually. “And you are going to have to find a way to clear my boys.” She stood up and smiled sweetly at the other woman. “Gotta go.” As she turned to leave, she stopped and looked back at Debs. “Phil knows it was you. So you might want to sort it quickly.”

The camera caught her final words.

+++

The surveillance devices planted on and around Jimmy Blackwell yielded very little other than his home address but MHI needed that so it wasn’t an insignificant return. He wasn’t going anywhere and was speaking to hardly anybody although he did get a call from Debs. Surprising the MHI team, Debs unknowingly helped them when she contacted Jimmy and asked him why he was still hanging around after having killed Noah. She told him that Phil Mitchell was not very happy to hear of the trouble it had caused his son. Jimmy replied to this foolishly forgetting to implicate Debs as the person who had contracted him. It gave that essential link to Noah and DI Linda Bird and DS Joe Munday were on their way to bring him in.

“We have enough to arrest him so why do I feel like we don’t?” Linda moaned. “You know this is gonna be like when we interviewed Debs Tomsett? He’s gonna give us nothing.”

“We’ve got a payment to him from Debs Tomsett and we’ve got him and Debs talking about Noah,” argued Joe.

“We can’t use that evidence though can we?”

“Don’t know yet. Maybe. But anyway, we have forensics. With his DNA we can link him to the scene. We’ve got the tape used to cover Noah’s mouth and there was hair on that. Hair that matches hair from his car which was in the area where Noah was abducted. We’ve already got Noah in the car.” Joe was hopeful that this was a turning point in their very sluggish investigation. “We also have him breaking into the Mitchell-Highways’ house and collecting hair samples that subsequently were found in his car. To be honest guv, I think he’s not very bright. We’ll get him in the interview.”

Linda loved being called ‘guv’. The rest of the team were resistant and persisted in calling her DI Bird but Joe showed her proper respect. She liked working with him and was willing to think that maybe his instincts about this case had been right all along. Maybe.

Jimmy was surprised to see them as he thought he had hidden himself well. How had they found him? At first he’d refused to go with them, but the ugly woman cop had simply read him his rights so now he was at the cop shop, arrested. Worse, they had his hair on the duck tape. He’d worn gloves and a hat so how had that happened? He didn’t have any good answers to get himself out of this mess, so all he could say was “No comment”.

He was detained overnight and by the following morning he had decided to confess as he’d decided there was no hope of getting away with it. Staying in the cell had massively unsettled him and he just wanted to leave so his thinking was that if he confessed then he would be released until there was a trial, and in the meantime he could do a runner. Also, if he confessed, he reasoned illogically, they would think he could be trusted. At no point did he consider getting some legal advice about his plan.

“Okay, I admit it. I pushed him in the river.” Hearing the unexpected confession, the duty solicitor slumped in his chair. Why should he help this idiot when he wasn’t even asking for advice?

“Who?” asked Joe. Jimmy looked blank for a moment. Was there more than one body in the river?

“That bloke, Noah.”

“Why?” Joe asked, staring at Jimmy and giving nothing away. Jimmy tried to think of a convincing answer.

“An argument. We had an argument.” Maybe he could pass this off as some kind of accident?

“When?” What was with these one word questions? wondered Jimmy peering at Joe then at Linda.

“When what?” he asked. Joe was calm and patiently repeated his question.

“When did you argue?”

“What’s it matter?” Jimmy had lost the thread of his original idea of an argument and wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Humour me,” smiled Joe. “Before you grabbed him? Or before you knocked him out, put him in the boot of your car, bound him and tied a concrete block to his ankles?” Jimmy belatedly worked out that he wasn’t going to be able to pass this off as an accident.

“Before all of that. He stole from me.” Jimmy (and the duty solicitor) groaned inside, kicking himself for the admission as well as the pointless lie. Now they would ask him what Noah stole.

“What did he steal from you?” Inevitable. Joe’s questions were simple but Jimmy was tying himself up in knots. It was almost too easy and Joe had to suppress a sudden urge to giggle. He waited patiently but Linda decided to butt in.

“We know he didn’t steal anything from you. We know you were contracted to kill him. We want to know by who.” Joe heaved a frustrated silent sigh. All his patient building wasted.

“I killed him because he fucked with me. Nobody contracted me,” refuted Jimmy. He held Linda’s stare. He was never going to give them Jackie Highway. That would be a death warrant. And now he knew that giving them Callum and Ben Mitchell-Highway was the same thing, except double as it would also incur the wrath of Phil Mitchell. Debs had landed that bombshell on him. In fact, he was beginning to think Debs knew all along what trouble this was going to cause with the Mitchell and Highway families. Maybe he could give them Debs? Risky, that though. She would definitely drop him straight in it. Another spit of an idea popped into his head. “I did it because he ‘it on me. An’ I ain’t no poof.”

“So he didn’t steal from you?” clarified Joe. “And you didn’t have an argument?”

“No,” muttered Jimmy miserably. He couldn’t keep track of what he was saying.

“You didn’t argue about him ‘hitting on you’?” Joe stared at Jimmy innocently although privately he was thinking that the man was a fool as Jimmy realised he had been caught out again.

“No comment,” he said, belatedly realising that it might have been safer to stick to this answer from the start.

It was clear an hour later that Jimmy wasn’t going to offer anything about his conspirators. Detective Superintendent John Lomax had been watching the interview and caught up with Joe and Linda afterwards.

“Get him processed,” he growled. “Who are you chasing for conspiracy?”

“Callum and Ben Mitchell-Highway, sir,” answered Linda promptly. Lomax turned to face her, his face a picture of fury.

“On what grounds DI Bird? You’ve investigated the hell out of them. They didn’t do it. We KNOW they didn’t do it. Who else?” He glared at his DI fiercely, challenging her to disagree with him.

“Jackie Highway. Phil Mitchell. Revenge for the harm done to their boys,” she suggested. “But we’ve got nothing there either, sir.”

“But you’re not thinking of Debs Tomsett who we actually have evidence for being involved?” Lomax stared at Linda in disbelief wondering how on earth she had made it to inspector. She was even worse than he had suspected. “Right, well, we’ll keep it open for now to secure the evidence against Debs Tomsett. DS Munday can keep it ticking over. Everybody else off it,” ordered Lomax. “And get round to the Mitchell-Highways and tell them there will be no charges. Today!” he barked. He wasn’t making the same mistakes as Wilcox. They would have nothing to complain about where he was concerned.

+++

It was a Monday morning team meeting at Mitchell Highway Investigations. Callum wanted some normalcy so started with their ordinary work.

“Wow!” exclaimed Frankie. “You two have been working your socks off.” It was true. He and Ben had completed an extraordinary amount of cases in the last couple of months. It was making him think that it would be more profitable to hire someone for the administrative side of the business so that he could do more investigating. Every night he’d been spending at least a couple of hours on admin and he didn’t want that to continue.

“Charlie’s helped a lot with the surveillance data,” said Callum, smiling at Charlie on the screen who, as usual, was blushing at the praise. Everybody was relaxed and happy this morning, so Callum was reluctant to bring up Noah and Meg but it had to be done. “Joe came to see us,” he said. “They’ve charged Jimmy Blackwell with Noah’s murder. They still think he was hired so the case is still open but he said they are not actively investigating Ben and me for it. Between us here, he knows it was Debs Tomsett. He just can’t prove it. I think we can draw a line under it though.” He looked around and saw everyone agreeing.

He was misreading Frankie, however. She felt she was close to understanding what was going on in Jackie’s organisation and, while she completely got why Callum and Ben would want to draw a line under it all, she was going to get to the bottom of it … just without them knowing she was working on it.

Marcus could see exactly what his girlfriend was planning. He was of one mind with Callum – he wanted to close the matter, much preferring when his life had no connections to criminals. But part of what he loved about Frankie was her tenacity and that came with downsides as well as upsides. She wanted answers and he was not going to try to stop her from getting them.

“So, next … Meg,” said Ben, bringing up a picture of her on the screen. “This was from when she dropped off her note. In person, smiling at the camera. I think we can say she wanted us to know she had done the posting.”

“She looks healthy,” commented Charlie. She did.

“Not sure about the hair,” observed Ben. “It looks like she’s shaved her head and it’s just growing out. Not her usual style … or colour, it’s dark, her natural colour, isn’t it?” Meg’s growing out hair had no style cut into it and would have suited a scruffy little street urchin.

“We know she helped us find Jimmy Blackwell,” said Callum, “so she has access to tech, which means she is not sleeping rough. Plus she’s clean and healthy which points to that as well.”

“I have a theory about this,” said Marcus. “That ‘please’ in the note – she wants us to help her. Maybe she was hiding waiting for us to find her a way out but then she realised that you two were in deep with the investigation into Noah’s murder. So she has helped get you out of that so that you can help her with her problem.”

“Sounds exactly right. That’s what Callum and me think,” agreed Ben. Frankie and Charlie nodded their agreement.

“We’ve been thinking about why Ben,” added Callum. “Why address Ben specifically?”

“She promised him she would come back. It was a promise made directly to him. He was holding her hands when she said it,” explained Frankie.

“Yes,” agreed Ben. “It could be as simple as that. But we think it could be a clue for where to go next. What can I do that none of you can?”

“Pick locks,” said Frankie immediately. “Charlie is better at hacking and monitoring devices, I’m better at online trawling and planting devices, Marcus is better at surveillance and Callum is better at interviewing and anything administrative.” Ben frowned at her summary of the team’s aptitudes.

“Alright, not doing much for my confidence,” he complained. “But yes, pick locks. So what lock might Meg want us to pick?”

“A physical address for Jackie’s operation,” suggested Charlie. “Meg led me through their system but maybe she’s saying we need to go to a real place.”

“Debs Tomsett? This new Iren person?” offered Callum.

“Why not just say that in the note?” asked Marcus.

“She’s not hiding from us,” reasoned Callum. “She’s scared of being nabbed by someone else. The note needed to sound innocent and not give anything away.”

“We do know now that she’s very nearby,” said Ben. “Manish and Joe had her landing near here from their CCTV retracing of her steps. She would not have been out and about without a disguise for longer than a couple of minutes, even at 5:30 in the morning. Coming here as herself was her way of telling us that so we’re going to look at flats very nearby that have been let in the last few months.”

“Maybe longer,” said Frankie, suddenly jumping up to go to the computer station. “If Jackie was controlling her from before we met her, which is what Charlie and me have found out,” she continued, displaying files showing communication going back to the previous summer between Debs Tomsett and Meg, “then she would have set up her bolt-hole last autumn, I reckon.”

“Okay, let’s go back a year. Ben – you on that?” Callum looked at Ben who nodded. “Frankie and Charlie – dig deeper into Debs and this Iren. We need some leverage to get them to leave Meg alone. I’ll talk to DS Akhtar and DI Peacock. I want to start thinking about how we get the police to leave Meg alone. Marcus – I’d love your thoughts on that.”

+++

Jackie had decided how she was going to get back into Callum’s and Ben’s good books. She was going to save Megan Smith. And the way she was going to save her was to set up the new girl, Iren, for a fall. She had it coming anyway. On this, she and Debs agreed. Debs felt that Iren was getting too big for her boots, Jackie felt that Debs was over-stepping – they were nothing if not focused on controlling power. Not to mention that Debs was relieved that it wasn’t going to be her being hung out to dry.

Jackie had now established communication lines with Phil who was equally interested in doing anything to support their boys. It had been awkward and difficult because Phil had been furious about the Jimmy Blackwell debacle and how much it had exposed Callum and Ben; he blamed Jackie for this at least in part and wasn’t particularly inclined to help her dig herself out of the hole. She had to be very persuasive about how important Meg was to Ben and Callum. Fortunately Ben had unwittingly backed up her story in a visit to Phil by explaining how Meg had helped clear them of the charges of conspiracy to murder. So Phil put it out on his network that Jackie’s expert was one Iren Gribkova and if any of the rackets wanted their money laundered they needed to let her get on with it, although they should know that Iren had been getting above herself and was being subjected to the full force of Jackie’s displeasure. Just like that, Iren’s side-deals collapsed and a small threat to her safety from Debs pulled her right back in line.

Jackie’s next problem was how to let Callum and Ben know that Meg was safe and, of course, make sure that she got the credit. Phil was going to sort out her Debs problem.


	8. Is patience a virtue?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a discussion in this chapter between Ben and Callum about their experiences of rape. It's in the section that starts with Frankie receiving a bug sweeper so please skip if this will cause you distress <3

Lily and Kaffi were getting ready for Jack’s and Luke’s party at Lexi’s house. Kojo was there as well but he was dressed already, had nothing to do to his hair as it was cropped very close and did not want to wear make-up which was what the other three were busy applying. Quickly bored, he went to find Roman and Tyler to see if they wanted to play cards or something.

Kaffi was arguing that, as a person with Egyptian heritage, his Cleopatra outfit was a strong choice.

“It’s a costume and it’s not a fancy dress party,” objected Lily. “Just wear clothes.” Kaffi had arrived with a suitcase full of options which was making the task harder rather than easier. Lily was in shiny silver shorts and a white lace halter-neck top with canvas pumps and Lexi was in a red patterned swing dress with canvas pumps.

“I haven’t brought the right shoes,” fretted Kaffi, looking at their feet. “You wearing your hair down, Lexi?” he asked, secretly envious of Lexi’s mad curls.

“Nope,” said Lexi. “I’m doing space buns. Now, wear these and this,” she instructed, holding up a pair of light grey pedal pushers and a long shimmery green top. Kaffi, glad not to have to make the decision, danced into the bathroom to get changed. “Just wait,” she said to Lily when he had gone. “The shoe crisis will be next.”

Soon enough though, they were finally ready and piled into the car for Callum to drop them off. He looked at Lexi sitting in the front seat next to him.

“Okay?” he mouthed. She nodded tightly, portraying her nerves with absolute clarity. When they arrived, the other three got out of the car and Callum held onto Lexi’s arm to keep her back for a moment.

“Call us if you need us. Remember what dad said about drinks. Have fun,” he said lightly, reaching over to give her a kiss.

“Thank you Daddy,” she said, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes as she jumped out of the car and joined the others.

It was a crowded party, people seemingly everywhere (Luke: “We invited a hundred and twenty”) and no parents (Jack: “They’re with neighbours down the road”). The music was loud but there was no dancing; Lexi felt like everybody was standing around watching everybody else. Maybe it was simply too early in the evening. The main activity was drinking and it seemed as though most people had brought half litre bottles of vodka hidden in their clothes, although some of the girls were wearing such tiny clothes there was nowhere they could have hidden anything. Lexi was not feeling confident. Every other girl was either in tight shorts or a short tight dress. Her dress, although it was her favourite, now felt like something a ten year old would wear. Lily’s outfit was perfect, Kaffi’s as well, and Kojo in his fitted white shirt was an instant hit with almost every girl in the house. Lexi, oblivious to the appreciative eyes on her, observed the eyes light upon him and follow him as he moved through the house; he had no awareness of how striking he was and she felt a jolt of satisfaction when she thought that this would give his self-esteem a boost.

The drinking was relentless and the party-goers got steadily more drunk. There were people doing things they were going to regret later, thought Lexi, watching a girl hooking her thumb around her top and pulling on it to partly expose her boob, the boy she was with practically salivating. Thankfully, as far as Lexi was concerned, keeping away from alcohol was easy enough as there were lots of soft drinks.

As the evening wore on, Lexi found herself at the edge of the room, perched on the arm of a chair, people watching. Lily was giggling and flirting with a boy called Jack who Lexi knew she’d fancied for a while and Kaffi was holding court with a little group hanging onto every nonsensical word he uttered. Lexi wasn’t judging – Kaffi was hilarious when he got going. She couldn’t see Kojo anywhere and went in search of him, stopping abruptly in the garden when she saw him furled around a tall girl with beautiful, long, straight, dark hair in a very short, tight dress, both engrossed in their kissing. Veering in the opposite direction, she went towards a gaggle of kids cheering on somebody on the trampoline. Straining to see what was happening, she felt herself being pulled away.

“You don’t want to see that,” said Jack Shaw, pulling a disgusted face and trying unsuccessfully to stop Lexi from looking towards the trampoline.

“Don’t want to see what?” asked Lexi, peering past him.

“Erm … it’s Tariq,” answered Jack. Lexi knew of Tariq; he was like the king of the year group.

“What’s he doing?” She could imagine Tariq being good at trampolining but why did Jack think she wouldn’t want to see that? Was he doing it naked or something? Something, it turned out.

“He’s … er … he’s having it off with Kerri.” Jack looked uncertainly at Lexi wondering what she would make of this information. Lexi knew of Kerri; she had a reputation for being easy and was frequently slut-shamed by the gossiping masses. This would just add to that, although somehow not for Tariq, thought Lexi, irritated by the double standard.

“On the trampoline?” She couldn’t quite wrap her head around it. “With everybody watching?”

“Yeah,” said Jack, uncomfortable with the conversation and trying again to move Lexi away. “You alright Lexi? Where’re the others?” Lexi caught sight of Lily and the other Jack, snogging, and Kaffi … snogging a girl called Emily.

“They’re all …” she pointed.

“Ah,” said Jack, following her finger. He looked at Lexi interestedly and put a hand on her hand. “We could …” She turned to look at him and he smiled at her hopefully. It caught her off-guard and her dads’ words sounded in her head. _Don’t do anything you don’t want to do_. It wasn’t so much that she was against the idea of kissing Jack; it was more that she wanted to be positively for the idea and she knew that wasn’t the case.

“Actually, I think I’m feeling a bit out of place,” she said, squeezing his hand, giving him a sweet smile. “I’m going to call my dads to come and get me. Thank you though.” Jack grinned at her. It was the nicest knock back he’d ever had. He’d had a crush on Lexi for ages and this just made him like her more.

“Okay,” he said simply. He hadn’t really imagined that he would have a chance with her. Would’ve been perfect, though, he thought.

Lexi made the call and went to tell her friends she was going. Lily barely came up for air to acknowledge what Lexi had said, Kaffi begged her to stay and looked like he would happily push Emily to one side and, yet again, she couldn’t find Kojo. Deciding to wait outside the front of the house, she texted him.

_going home couldnt find you to say gbye_

Quickly checking the tracking app her dads had installed so she could see where they were tonight, she settled down for a ten minute wait. It went past quickly and very soon Ben pulled up in the car.

“You okay sweetheart?” he asked as she got in the car, seeing immediately that she was quite flat.

“I wore the wrong clothes,” she said, fed up. “But it’s no good - I don’t want to wear the right clothes.”

“What are the right clothes?” quizzed Ben, pulling smoothly away.

“Anything short and tight. Tops where you can see your boobs a bit. I’m too skinny. My bottom is too small and I haven’t got proper boobs.” She folded her arms grumpily across the offending chest. “Jack Shaw offered to pity kiss me.”

“Pity kiss?” Ben was not sure what she was telling him.

“The others were all snogging people so he offered, you know.”

“I suspect he was quite keen on the idea, Lex. I’m not sure pity kissing is a thing,” said Ben, sorely tempted to laugh but knowing he mustn’t. “I take it you turned the poor bloke down. Hope you did it kindly.”

“Hmm,” she replied as a text alert came in.

_Told gran I would come home with you_

She sighed heavily.

“Can we go back for Kojo? He told his gran he would come home with us.” Ben turned the car around and headed back.

“Lily and Kaffi?” he checked.

“No, their parents are picking them up. Kaffi is leaving for the airport straight after the party. They have a flight really early tomorrow morning.”

“But his clothes are at our house,” wondered Ben, having seen the clothes carnage in Lexi’s room.

“He’s got loads of clothes. His holiday clothes were already packed.” She peered out of the window. “There he is.” Kojo was sitting on the garden wall much as Lexi had been and jumped up when he saw the car.

“I’m sorry,” he said as soon as he got in the back of the car.

“Don’t worry,” said Ben easily. “Lexi said you were otherwise engaged.” Lexi looked at him in horror. Did he not know when to keep his mouth shut? she wondered.

“I would’ve hung around for a bit if I’d known you were coming home with us. I feel bad that I’ve made you leave early,” she said, turning around to face Kojo. “Hey, what’s wrong?” His face was tear stained. Ben looked in the rear view mirror, angling it to look at Kojo.

“Nothing, it’s fine,” muttered Kojo, looking out of the window, firstly, mortified that Lexi had told Ben he’d been with a girl, and, secondly, upset about what had happened with that girl.

“Was someone mean to you because you were leaving early?” asked Lexi, thinking it might be her fault he was upset. Ben watched him quietly.

“Mean to me,” mimicked Kojo wryly. “No, Lexi, no-one was ‘mean to me’.” Lexi clammed up. She’d felt ridiculously young at the party and now Kojo, one of her closest friends, was acting like she was a child. Ben felt her pain. As first parties went, this had not been a success so he reached across and squeezed her hand. She clamped her other hand on top, grateful for the comfort.

“I’m sorry,” Kojo repeated, noticing Ben’s action and feeling bad instantly. He reached forward and touched Lexi’s shoulder.

“Yeah, fine,” said Lexi coolly, not bothering to look round.

“Come on Lex,” pleaded Kojo, hating that this was happening in front of Ben. He’d mocked Lexi. What had made him do that? It wasn’t like him and he was genuinely sorry.

“Have you been to lots of parties, Kojo?” she asked, turning and giving him an icy stare. “You definitely know what to wear, what to do.”

“What? I’ve been to some. What do you mean? What to wear, what to do? I get it wrong all the time.” He sat looking out of the window for a few moments. “That girl, Eloise, she’s going out with Jack Brody. He threatened to set his brother on me. Then he kneed me in the … bits.”

Lexi turned and sat looking forward, not saying anything.

“Are you hurt Kojo?” asked Ben, not wanting to deliver an injured Kojo home to Akua. He valued his own bits.

“Yeah it hurt but I’ll be okay,” insisted Kojo. He touched Lexi’s arm again. “I’m sorry we left you, Lex. I know we were supposed to have fun together.” Ben felt a pang of pity for the poor boy. Lexi was furious with him and Ben knew what that could feel like.

“That’s why I found myself sitting on the sofa BY MYSELF watching you all eat people’s faces. Yeah, Ko, I was having a great laugh.” Kojo slumped back in his seat.

“I’ve said I’m sorry,” he said. Lexi ignored him.

The rest of the journey went by in silence. Kojo politely thanked Ben for the lift when they got to his home. He only lived around the corner from them so Ben and Lexi were soon home.

“You not going to forgive him?” asked Ben as they went in the house.

“Nope!” snapped Lexi. Callum appeared out of the living room, missing Ben’s warning look.

“Did you have fun sweetheart?” he asked with a big smile.

“Oh, for god’s sake,” huffed Lexi, clicking her fingers for Robbie to follow and going straight upstairs. The little dog knew when he was needed.

“No?” Callum asked Ben.

“No,” Ben confirmed.

+++

The next day brought a pair of wonderful surprises.

The first was when Louise and Peggy came over for tea and shared the news that there was to be a new baby cousin.

“When are you due?” asked Ben, shooting a knowing triumphant look at Callum who grinned and rolled his eyes.

“Late January. I’m fifteen weeks,” she replied, “and already showing.” Pulling her clothes tight around her, she revealed a slight bump. “I was NOT showing with Peggy at fifteen weeks.”

“You happy about it?” questioned Ben, seeing signs that Louise was not particularly positive. She looked at him knowing how good he was at mind-reading and, checking the children weren’t watching, shook her head. Ben moved to sit with her and put his arms around her.

“I’m twenty-two Ben. And Richard and me do NOT know each other that well. It’s not exactly ideal, is it?” Her shoulders were slumped and she pouted prettily.

“You’re a good-looking grump, y’ know,” remarked Ben, eliciting a smile from her.

“Well, I’m having the baby, Richard, no Richard, whatever. So that’s that. He says he wants to be part of the baby’s life.”

“But not yours?” asked Callum astutely.

“I don’t know,” sighed Louise. “Thing is, even if I decide I don’t like him, I’m stuck with him now for life. Maybe not us together, but as baby’s dad. God, I’m an idiot. TWO unplanned pregnancies. How have I managed that?”

“All our kids were unplanned,” commented Callum. Louise was about to reply that it wasn’t the same but stopped herself as she appreciated the truth in Callum’s words. She smiled at him.

“True.” She looked at the children playing. “Doesn’t matter at all, does it? We still love them loads.”

The doorbell rang and Callum went to answer it bringing back Stuart and Whitney. He was a little anxious because he knew Louise would mention her pregnancy and he was conscious that Whitney might be upset but he needn’t have worried as Stuart had barely sat down before he spilled the beans.

“We’re havin’ a baby, a boy, gonna call him Bobby,” he babbled. Whitney giggled.

“Stu, that’s a lot of information all at once,” she smiled, going on to explain. “We’ve just come from the hospital, from the twenty week scan which is how we know he’s a boy.” She handed the scan image to Callum. “But you could probably tell ‘cause I’m showin’,” she said proudly. Louise looked at her, privately thinking that she was showing more than Whitney.

“It’s the day for it,” she said. “I’m pregnant as well. Fifteen weeks. So you’re due just before Christmas?” Whitney could not have looked more delighted as she congratulated Louise which actually cheered Louise up.

“Christmas Day,” announced Stuart, clearly delighted. “We’re ‘avin a Christmas baby.”

“Well I’m buzzed,” laughed Callum. “I love babies. And we’re havin’ two.”

+++

The package Frankie had been waiting for had finally arrived and Frankie was excited about her new piece of kit. It was a bug sweeper. MHI used surveillance devices a lot but, as far as they were aware, they didn’t need to worry about other parties using bugs to surveil them. Frankie had reviewed the Arts Centre CCTV and that at Ben’s and Callum’s house and had not been able to spot Meg. Then she had gone over the place with a fine toothcomb and found nothing. But Meg would have had a reason to be there and the only thing Frankie could think of was that it was to place bugs so she was resolved to look again using her new toy.

Certain that none of his artists were anything other than they seemed, Marcus had questioned what Meg would have wanted to discover. Initially Frankie had felt confident that the answer to that question would be revealed when they found the bug but her confidence had started to wane as soon as the question had been asked and there was very little left now the sweeper had arrived. What would Meg have wanted to discover by bugging the Arts Centre? It was hard to imagine.

Frankie had to wait until everybody had gone home knowing that all of the artists would take a very dim view of being spied on and she didn’t want them to hate Meg. She wanted to found out what was going on first. Marcus joined her as she prepared to sweep the small studios and the larger exhibition spaces of the old building.

 _There’s going to be nothing here_ he signed.

 _I know_ she replied. She knew he was right.

Four hours later, they sat glumly in their office, a small alcove off the front entrance corridor. The sweep had revealed precisely nothing.

 _How much did you spend on that?_ asked Marcus.

 _A lot_ answered Frankie wishing he didn’t have to be so right all the time. _Well MHI did. I just haven’t told them yet._

 _Are you planning to do that before they get an invoice for it?_ Marcus asked. God he was annoying sometimes, thought Frankie as she opened a drawer and waved an envelope at him.

 _I intercepted it_ she explained slightly guiltily. They sat silently trying to think for what other reason Meg might have been there. Suddenly, Frankie focused on the notice board that lined the alcove. It was full of bits of art and photographs all of Frankie’s creation … apart from one photograph which to anybody looking wouldn’t stand out. It was a similar style to many of the other photos but Frankie knew she hadn’t taken it and that was the point. Stretching up, she removed the photograph.

 _I didn’t take this_ she said, showing it to Marcus. In the picture was a non-descript terraced house, n0 number visible, no street name shown.

 _Do you think it’s where she’s living?_ asked Marcus.

 _Or the house where Ben needs to pick the locks?_ suggested Frankie. _How are we supposed to know where it is?_

 _Ben_ said Marcus _From the note. We should show it to Ben._

It was late but Frankie and Marcus were confident it would be alright to call Callum and Ben. A sleepy Callum answered Ben’s phone, waking up quickly as he saw Frankie’s and Marcus’ serious faces and shaking Ben to wake him. Ben grabbed his glasses and put in his hearing aid.

Frankie quickly explained about the bug sweeper, apologising for the unsanctioned purchase, and moved on quickly to describe how the photo had been hidden. She quickly sent Callum a copy and he and Ben looked at it.

“I don’t recognise it,” said Ben, searching the picture for clues. Callum was strangely quiet.

“I do,” he whispered. Ben immediately felt his unease and slid an arm around him.

“You okay, babe?” he asked worriedly. Callum had frozen next to him. Ben put a hand on his chest and could feel his heart racing. “Hey,” he said, trying to get Callum’s attention. “Babe, talk to me.” Callum shuffled closer to Ben so that their sides were fully in contact and turned his head revealing deep, blue eyes flooded with distress.

“It’s where Aidan kept me. It’s in Canning Town. Well not him. It was his man, Anthony.” Ben could feel Callum’s fear. His breathing had become erratic and he was pressed right into Ben’s side as though that was somewhere he could hide. Ben signed quickly to Frankie and Marcus to give them half an hour and ended the call.

“Anthony,” he said softly. “Not a name you’ve mentioned before, babe. So,” he lay himself and Callum down, entwining their legs, and faced him across the pillows, “what did he do to you?” He stroked Callum’s cheek with the gentlest care, seeing his beloved’s eyes brimming with anguish. For a long minute, Callum didn’t speak, his eyes looking inward and appearing unfocused. Ben waited patiently, continuing with his tender touches. He and Callum had been through awful things and he recognised that this was going to be yet another. Eventually, Callum breathed out slowly and started to speak.

“He pretended he cared about me, told me he was trying to help me. But he kept me tied to the bed so when he … when he …” Callum closed his eyes for a few seconds as though he was ashamed. “I believed him. Thought he cared, maybe we had somethin’. So I let him … like … I didn’t resist.” Haunted eyes stared at Ben. “But sometimes it comes into my head and I remember it differently. There was no care. None. I had no choice, no say in what was happening. I was tied up. I was frightened, Ben. I remember being frightened.” Ben shuffled nearer and held Callum’s hands to his lips.

“Sometimes?” he questioned carefully. “How often do you think about it?” Callum gulped. He wanted to be truthful but this was something he didn’t want to be part of who he was and he had knowingly kept it from Ben.

“Now when it comes into my head, I can let it come and go quickly, a few seconds, that’s all,” he obfuscated. Ben kissed his hands again and look at him with such care and love that Callum was in no doubt that it was safe to let go of his secret. “Every day,” he admitted, watching Ben for disappointment. It was not what he saw. Love, care, support were what was in front of him.

“You can let go of it, Callum,” said Ben, his voice as soothing as his caresses. “Like you’re building a jigsaw of your life and this is a piece that you’ve placed in a section that’s finished. Maybe there’s been a piece missing from that section for a while but tonight you found it. That section is always going to be part of the whole picture but it’s not the central part, the biggest part with all the bright colours.” Ben smiled. “’Cause that’s me.” Callum felt a warmth deep inside as he thought of Ben at the centre of his world.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he whispered. Ben looked at him seriously, understanding that this was a moment for sharing one of his own worst memories.

“It happened to me inside,” he said quietly. “Actually more than once but the first time was the worst. They held me down and three of them had me, bareback, cold, tore my arse in two.” Callum looked at Ben in horror. “Darren gave me the jigsaw idea and it REALLY helped me think about it another way. But,” he held Callum’s face in his hands, “I’m also sorry I never told you. It’s ‘cause I want you to see me as whole, not broken. That why you didn’t tell me?” Callum nodded.

They looked at each other appreciating that they had both been through terrible, terrifying experiences that had broken them, but, piece by piece, they had mended each other and they were whole.

“You and me,” murmured Callum, breaking the silence, “are made for each other.” Ben’s smile signalled his agreement. Yet again, he appreciated the pure serendipity that had brought him Callum and brought him to Callum. He thanked his lucky stars for the gift of a husband who could not be more perfect.

“The way we make love, babe, has fixed me,” revealed Ben, his voice hushed and his eyes locked on Callum. “Before you, I’d always been top. Couldn’t let anyone near me. Didn’t want to be that vulnerable. But I feel safe with you, you have made me feel safe, and I’ve been able to move on.” Tears came to his eyes unbidden as he appreciated the emotional safety that Callum had provided. “We’re everything babe.”

They rested their foreheads together, holding hands tightly in front of their chests, legs entangled and offered each other smiles, fantastic surges of warmth that came from deep within sending out sparkling tendrils that instantly curled together and they lay, completely connected, allowing themselves this healing time.

After a while, Ben spoke.

“We’ll find Meg, find out what her connection is to that house, and we’ll get Frankie to do some surveillance, figure out what’s going on there,” he planned. “Then you and me, we’ll go in together, yeah? I know we said we were going to let Jackie’s operation go but maybe we need to keep going.”

“Yeah,” agreed Callum, breathing deeply and freely. That bedroom in that house had been part of a daily nightmare but he was going in with Ben and it was going to be fine.

+++

Ben found out where Meg was living in next to no time - the previous tenant of her flat had described her to a tee when a friend asked him on Facebook if he had let the flat – and was shocked to find exactly how close she was. He grabbed Callum and they went straight round there.

Springing inside as she opened the door, Robbie was first, ecstatic to see Meg. Laughing, she buried her face in the fluffy fur on his head. She’d missed the gorgeous little fellow. Ben enveloped her in a big hug, followed swiftly by Callum doing the same. Meg felt like she could disappear in their hugs, if just for a moment; it was an overwhelming relief and she collapsed to the floor as her knees buckled involuntarily. Callum helped her to her feet and supported her to the sofa, kneeling down beside her.

“Meg darlin’,” (she almost wept hearing that), “are you alright?” His face radiated concern. Ben was sitting on the arm of the sofa looking similar. It was as though the two of them had walked into her flat and a protective cushion had magically lined the place.

“Am I safe?” she whispered. She caught a swift glance between the two of them.

“To an extent,” said Ben. “Charlie’s picked up some chatter that the Russian woman, Iren Gribkova, built Jackie’s system.” He saw recognition on Meg’s face. “You got that too, yeah? We think somebody is deflecting interest in the mystery you onto Iren. The question is why and our guess is that it’s to remove you from the picture. Other than us, only two people would have an interest in doing that. My dad. Callum’s mum.”

“Why would Jackie …?” Meg was confused. Jackie had been very clear that she didn’t care what happened to her.

“For us,” explained Callum. “We’re angry with her for putting our lives at risk with the whole Jimmy Blackwell and Noah thing. She will think of this as making up to us.”

“Crazy witch,” muttered Ben. “But we’ll take it if it brings you back to us.” Brings me back to them, heard Meg. They wanted her back in their life and it was intensely comforting and everything she needed to hear. This last few months around Callum and Ben had made Meg realise that her previous isolation was unhealthy and that she needed relationships if she was going to be happy. She hadn’t thought much before about happiness in her life but now she knew she wanted it. Happiness, fun, laughter, love – she wanted all of it.

“To an extent?” repeated Meg. Callum and Ben looked at each other again. Meg was vulnerable and they didn’t want to tip her over the edge.

“The police,” said Callum carefully. “They still have you building Jackie’s money-laundering apps. We need to think of a way to get them off your case.”

“So I need to stay here?” Her heart sank. Up to that moment, she had been alright in the flat because she had been suppressing any thoughts of being free. Ben’s and Callum’s arrival today had allowed those thoughts to surface and now she couldn’t bear the thought of having to stay hidden. She desperately needed all of this to be over.

“Just for a while,” soothed Callum, noticing her stiffen and withdraw into herself. “We want a proper solution. One that you can be sure of.”

“We’re working on it,” promised Ben. They could both sense that Meg was despairing about the lack of an answer to her problems but things were what they were – they didn’t have an answer yet. Ben glanced across at Callum checking that it was okay to raise the next subject. Callum inclined his head almost imperceptibly. “So Meg,” started Ben, “tell us about the photo. Frankie found it.”

Meg watched them worriedly. She had known that photo would open a can of worms and had been very uncertain about whether or not to introduce it. Had she betrayed Callum letting Ben in on his secret? Was that right or wrong? She honestly wasn’t sure.

“When I was working for Jackie as … as a … as …”

“…an exploited child,” offered Ben so that she didn’t need to say her own words. Meg glanced at him gratefully.

“We were kept there at that house,” she said. “A man called Anthony was our usual guard. Jackie thought he was safe with us ‘cause we were all girls and he was gay but he was a psycho. There were other guards sometimes – both women and men. They were vicious an’ all.” She watched Callum carefully, unsure if she should continue.

“It’s okay Meg darlin’,” he encouraged. “Ben knows everything.” A wave of relief washed over her. She wanted Ben to be involved. It had been hard for her to go back to the house and merely stand outside; it was sure to be the same for Callum. They needed Ben’s support.

“Anthony was as much a prisoner as us. Aidan Maguire gave him to Jackie and she had total control over him. He told her that he’d loved you, Callum, but he told us that he’d … he’d … done things to you, awful things, in that house. He bragged about it and used it to make us frightened of him.” Callum was staring at the floor and listening. As he lifted his head, he looked straight at Meg and saw her looking back for a split second – a tiny moment with a lightning bolt of connection.

“Yeah,” he said, breathing the word out and letting go. “So who’s there now?”

“Still Anthony,” said Meg hesitantly, hoping that wouldn’t prevent Callum from investigating. “It’s a kind of headquarters for Debs Tomsett. It’s mainly Iren’s place I think. But I was only there a few times.”

“Frankie’s going to do some watching,” interjected Ben. “Then me and Callum are going there. You think we’ll find what we need to link Debs to Noah?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Meg. “I just know Debs is a luddite. She could never understand the money-laundering system. She barely sends emails. But I haven’t been to that house in six years; they always met me in a different flat and … … I’ve been in that one - there’s nothing there. So I figure it would be worth going inside the Canning Town house. Only they’re looking for me so it can’t be me.”

“You took the photo in April, Meg.” Ben’s tone was gentle not scolding. “Why show it to us now?”

“It’s been on Frankie’s board since April,” exclaimed Meg, betraying her frustration with them. “I thought you’d find it. I thought you’d find me.” She held up her hands as they both jumped in to apologise. “No, no. I get it. I didn’t know how much trouble you were in with the police. That’s why I tried to help. You couldn’t help me until I helped you.”

“We’re grateful for your help. You know that, right?” said Callum. “You’re there for us and we’re there for you.” The welcome words landed softly on Meg’s frayed nerves like a balm.

“Okay,” smiled Ben. “So are you going to make us a coffee? Show us your new place. You’ve got it looking nice. Bit empty, mind.”

“My stuff’s at your house,” replied Meg, lifting herself off the sofa and going into the kitchen. Behind her back, Callum and Ben shared a worried lock. They had given a lot of time to thinking about how to save Meg and had asked Amanda for advice but there didn’t seem to be an answer. They had no idea what they were going to do.

+++

Callum drove Frankie down to Canning Town and showed her the house from the photo. Just a house, he told himself as they pulled up a little way down the road from it. He’d wanted to see how he would react to seeing it again so had offered the lift; he felt sick. Turning to face Frankie, he pointed back through the rear window.

“It’s back there, on the right. One hundred and fifty six.”

Frankie had caught his mood. Callum was a talker, always chatting about this and that, but car journeys for Frankie were always silent. Her feeling, however, was that Callum would not have said a word even if she could hear him.

“You okay?” she asked. “What is it about this house?” She’d asked Ben and he had said it was Callum’s story to tell. Callum grimaced. A sharp headache had swiftly overcome him and Callum massaged his temples, willing it away.

“Bad memories,” he said. “Both me and Meg were prisoners in that house. At different times. Me thirteen years ago, Meg six.” He relaxed in Frankie’s concern as she stroked his cheek comfortingly. “Thanks Frankie,” he murmured then fixed her with a sudden, stern stare. “Do NOT go in there. I mean it. DO NOT!”

“Okay, okay,” she promised.

As he left, she realised that there was absolutely nowhere for her to hide on this street. How had Meg managed it? Maybe she had been there just long enough to take her photograph. All of the miniscule front gardens had been converted to hard standing and most had cars squeezed on at odd angles. It was hard to imagine how the drivers had achieved this parking. Crumbling, low brick walls or broken fences marked the boundaries; that or back to back wheelie bins. Badly painted front doors stared belligerently at the street as if to say ‘what’re you looking at?’ while shabby net curtains said ‘just leave it, will ya?’ Frankie wasn’t sure that she had been anywhere so depressing.

“What’re y’after luvvy?” rasped a voice. Frankie felt the arrival of someone next to her and turned to see a tiny, wizened figure right next to her on the pavement.

 _“_ Deaf,” she said and signed, recognising the signs of somebody waiting for an answer to a question she hadn’t heard.

“You’ll be observant, then,” remarked the woman, scrutinising Frankie closely. “Ya wanna know about one five six?” she asked. Frankie frowned at her. How had this old woman made her so quickly? “Ya drive past ‘ere with the ‘andsome one, Jackie’s boy Callum, so stands to reason.”

Shit, thought Frankie. Were they in trouble? Was this woman going to go straight to Debs and tell her that Callum had been sniffing around?

“Betty,” said the woman, presumably introducing herself. Frankie was frozen in the moment, not knowing what to do as Betty was not giving enough away for Frankie to trust her.

“Do you know Callum?” she asked tentatively. Betty indicated for her to follow her.

“Can’t stand ‘ere luvvy, not if ya don’t want ‘em to see ya,” she said over her shoulder as she opened her front door. Frankie didn’t get a word of it but understood she was supposed to follow Betty into her house. She made a point of texting Callum in front of Betty who responded with a short laugh. “Yer’ve got nuffin to fear from me,” she cackled.

Her house was like an nineteen-eighties time capsule. It was an era Frankie particularly liked and had often wished that she was old enough to have experienced it first-hand; this was easily the next best thing. Transfixed with the décor and the furnishings, she spent some time looking around. The place was spotlessly clean but smelled old. The furniture, thought Frankie. She noticed an armchair placed strategically just back from the front window, angled to give its occupant a clear view of number one hundred and fifty-six.

“What do they think of you watching them?” she asked.

“That I’m a mad, nosy old beak,” chuckled Betty. “In years gone by, I’ve reported ‘em to the bobbies but those numpties come along, go in, leave and nuffin changes. They’ve threatened me, course they ‘ave. So I keep me mouth shut now.” Betty peered at Frankie closely. “Ooh ya really are deaf, ain’t ya?” She repeated herself, speaking slower and clearer, and then reached for a large box sitting on a shelf and handed it to Frankie.

It was full of surveillance photos of the house across the road, organised by year and going back fifteen years. Frankie knew when Callum had been there and quickly found a picture of him as Betty watched over her shoulder.

“He don’t look a day older,” the old woman commented. “He ain’t been round ‘ere in all this time. Why now? What’s he doin’?”

“So you don’t know him?” clarified Frankie.

“Okay, sharp miss, I don’t know ‘im,” agreed Betty. “But I do know ‘is mum so I know OF ‘im.”

“You know Jackie Highway?” Frankie was still wary. Was Betty friends with Jackie?

“Jackie’s mum, Nancy, an’ me went to school together,” revealed Betty. “I never ‘ad kids, but Nancy, well she was a one. Six kids, six dads, no weddins. She died ‘avin’ Jackie.”

“Shit!” exclaimed Frankie.

“Hmm,” hummed Betty, her disapproving look giving away that she didn’t like the bad language. “Ya could say Jackie was the lucky one. ‘Er dad stuck around … or ‘e tried. Jackie was a tearaway as bad as ‘er mum, pregnant at fourteen. But that’s nuffin’. She turned into a very nasty piece o’ work. Ya DO know what yer dealin’ wiv?” she asked, looking at Frankie very doubtfully.

“Yeah we do,” affirmed Frankie. “Callum knows exactly what his mum is like.” She went back to the box and looked for the year Meg would have been at the house, finding a picture of her with long, curly, dark hair.

“I called the coppers about them girls.” Betty’s voice had taken on a harder, disapproving tone as she saw what Frankie was perusing. “Babies they was, not one of ‘em of age. Coppers came and there was no sign them girls’d ever bin there … apparently.”

“Where do you get your photos developed?” asked Frankie, wanting to make sure nobody knew Betty had all this evidence. The old woman wasn’t finished with her surprises. Frankie’s photography was all digital but it didn’t mean that her stomach didn’t flip when Betty showed off her dark room. It was a photographer’s dream, a true treasure trove.

“Wow, Betty,” she whispered, looking around in awe. As well as the developing trays and lines for clipping on drying photographs, there was box upon box of photos. Even in the red light, Frankie could see the quality of these. As well as spying on the dodgy neighbours, Betty was obviously keen on bird watching and her photographs were stunning.

“What do you do with these?” asked Frankie, waving a photo of sparrows on a telephone wire, obviously taken in the nineteen eighties.

“Keep ‘em in boxes,” replied Betty, with a silent ‘duh’. She regarded Frankie thoughtfully. “So, ya gonna tell me what yer doin’ ‘ere, little deaf miss?”

Deciding Betty was one of the good ones, Frankie explained.

+++

The deal was that Betty would let Callum and Ben know when the house was empty. The problem was that it was never empty. Treating it like a day out and dressing up in her Sunday best, she met them both at Kathy’s café and quickly won them over with her sassiness.

“Ooh, yer the spit of yer grandad,” she proclaimed after sizing up Callum. “I tried it on wiv ‘im ya know … after yer nan was gone o’ course.”

“Were you not his type, Betty?” laughed Callum, very taken with this direct lady.

“Obviously not or I’d be yer step-nan,” she responded cheekily. Ben was more wary. He was worried that Betty would become too involved and might put herself in danger plus he was concerned that she might give the game away about his and Callum’s involvement. He sensed that this was the most exciting thing to have happened to her in years.

“You haven’t changed your behaviour, Betty? In a way that over the road would notice?” he asked.

“Ya think I’m a fool?” she retorted but she knew Ben was right to be careful. She’d been watching that house for years and had instigated five police raids, all pointless, but her instincts were telling her that these two handsome men would achieve so much more. “It could be a time before ya can get in there,” she told them. “There’s always someone there.” There was nothing that they could do about that, however, so waiting was their only option.

Ben and Callum treated Betty to lunch, with Kathy making an effort to make the occasion special for this little old lady dressed like she was off to the palace. Frankie turned up after lunch to take Betty to the Arts Centre, having had an idea to display Betty’s bird photographs. Betty was thrilled about this opportunity. Ben was wrong about the most exciting thing to happen to her in years - the possible exhibition was that.

+++

Debs might have been technophobic but Iren certainly wasn’t and she was exceptionally good at covering her digital tracks. Frankie and Charlie quickly found themselves chasing their tails.

 _We need to sneak up on her,_ typed Frankie. This is why Meg thought Ben would need to get in the house, realised Charlie.

 _I’ve been working on some spyware,”_ he wrote. _“It’s good. If Ben gets in there, he could instal it._

It resulted in some substantial training for Ben which he tried to juggle with looking after the children as the summer holidays were now underway. In truth, Callum and Ben were struggling to get any work done with the house seemingly permanently full of children and not just their own.

“They’re getting’ older and they’re definitely more independent,” moaned Ben, “so why are they taking up so much more of our time?” He and Callum were snatching a few moments on the garden swing bed with Robbie tucked in between them in the midst of the never-ending cooking and taxi services they provided.

“It’s just a few more days like this,” reasoned Callum. “It’s already been a week, so a few more days, then they’re all away for a week. They’re back for a week but Sharon is taking them on days out that week so we can work, then we’re off to France. And, before you start moaning again,” he silenced Ben with a swift kiss, “we’re back five whole days before school starts.”

The first week had passed in a blur of activities and sunshine with all sulking about the Shaw twins’ party soon forgotten between Lexi and her friends. Kojo’s gran had got him volunteering at a soup kitchen so there were to be no fun trips for him but he caught up with the others when he could and they were all more or less back to normal. His four surrogate dads all felt that he was becoming very serious and a little over-burdened with life so they hatched a plan to persuade Akua to let him come to France with them. It was another occasion of getting a passport in short time but Akua managed it; she went to the passport office in person and was not to be put off.

The day quickly came for the children to leave for their camps. Roman and Tyler were going for a week’s sailing; Mike was keen that they could start to crew with him on his small yacht in France so had enrolled them on a beginners’ training course. He’d wanted Lexi to go as well but she was already enrolled on theatre camp with Kaffi and Lily. She was excited about theatre camp but surprised herself with being a little disappointed about missing out on the sailing course. She loved being out on the boat and had been learning to crew bit by bit over the past few summers; now, annoyingly, the boys were going to know more about it than her.

Once the house was empty, Ben and Callum sat in the office and regathered the threads of their work. The butters and lolos were easy to pick up and there were a couple more cases where the client was alleging wrongful arrest. They were gaining a reputation for being helpful with this sort of case which was good as the whole team liked the work. But what they really wanted right now was a call from Betty. It finally came on the day the children were due back and Callum and Ben wasted no time going down to Canning Town.

Standing outside number one hundred and fifty-six, shielding his lock-picking husband from view of passers-by, Callum caught a glimpse of Betty watching them from her house. At least she wasn’t photographing them as this was very definitely illegal. Ben was fast and, before Callum had time to think too hard, they were standing in the hallway listening carefully for anything that sounded out of the ordinary. Ben reached for Callum’s hand and, at the contact, they looked at each other.

 _No talking_ signed Ben. _We stay together_. Callum nodded his agreement. He felt as though there was a dead weight in the pit of his stomach so talking wasn’t something he’d been considering.

The first room was an ordinary living room: sofas, chairs and a large television. Callum realised he had never seen inside this room. Maybe it had always been a living room.

The next room was not at all ordinary. It was dark with heavy metal shutters covering the window just about visible in the light from the hallway. The electronic whirring from the server and the air conditioner was almost deafening and the room was full of computers and screens, surrounding a small central space which contained a single chair.

 _Iren’s control centre?_ suggested Callum. So far the house bore no recognition to the place where he’d been kept but he was dreading going upstairs.

 _Yes I think so_ agreed Ben, sitting down on the chair and starting to type on one of the keyboards. Charlie had schooled him in the spyware tech he was using but it was the first time he’d tried it. They needed to create a spyhole into Iren’s system and Ben hoped he was doing it right. He tried to concentrate on the task which was difficult given the tension screaming from Callum as he stood watching in the doorway.

 _Come in_ said Ben. _Shine your phone light on this. I can’t see what I’m doing_. He hoped that giving Callum something to do might help. It took several minutes but eventually he was done. Making sure he’d covered up the evidence of his ingress, he turned to smile at Callum. _Do you wanna go upstairs, babe?_

No he didn’t, he really didn’t. But he appreciated Ben’s attempt at lightness.

They crept up the stairs together, Ben aware of Callum’s nerves and holding his hand constantly. As they reached the landing, he glanced at Callum and saw him looking at a door straight ahead. Squeezing encouragement, he followed when Callum moved towards the door and rested his other hand on the handle. They were both wearing latex gloves but Ben felt suddenly apprehensive and mentally ran through everywhere they had been so far. This had to be an invisible break in. Callum opened the door to reveal a small room, its paintwork a bright aqua colour with fresh white woodwork and its only contents a day bed and a chest of drawers. A roller blind in a slightly darker teal shade sat at the top of the window matching the carpet. The room was extremely clean and didn’t look like anybody used it. A quick search of the drawers revealed they were empty.

 _Different bed,_ signed Callum, heaving a big sigh. _It’s all different._ The meaning in his sigh was loud and clear. He let go of Ben’s hand and walked into the room, turning to face him as he remained in the doorway. _I’m not here,_ he signed, the relief broadcast on his face. Ben smiled at him. They stayed for a couple of moments as Callum searched his own emotions to be certain that he was alright. He was and he was surprised. He had thought it would be more difficult.

They quickly turned over the other two bedrooms. Like the small bedroom, they were exceptionally clean and tidy, but there were belongings in each of them indicating to Callum and Ben that the occupants were Iren and Anthony. Iren had a locked box in the bottom of her wardrobe which Ben made short work of opening, discovering a number of passports all with Iren’s face but only one with her name and a great deal of cash. He quickly snapped these with his phone then went to check on Callum in Anthony’s room. Callum was sitting on the floor with a plastic box in front of him. Ben looked over his shoulder to see a range of BDSM accoutrements as Callum picked up some ties. He dropped to the floor next to him and gently took the ties away.

 _You okay?_ he asked.

 _Yeah okay,_ confirmed Callum, although in all honesty this room had shaken him. He took the ties back and put them exactly where he had found them then pushing the box back under the bed. _Let’s go,_ he said, getting to his feet and pulling Ben up. They made their way downstairs just in time as a message came in from Betty.

_Anthony is in the grey bmw that has just parked outside. You need to leave through the back door now. I will distract him._

They could hear her squawking at Anthony about fast food rubbish on the pavement (had she planted that? wondered Ben, impressed at her ingenuity if she had) as they let themselves out and ran through the concrete yard. Callum gave a leg up to propel Ben over the back wall and then scrambled up and over himself. Holding hands, they casually sauntered down the alley way towards their car.

Anthony let himself in number one hundred and fifty-six, hands full of rubbish that had nothing to do with him and irritated by the onslaught of criticism he had received from their nosy neighbour. It stopped him from noticing the lingering scent of aftershave. Iren noticed it when she arrived back an hour later but assumed Anthony was trying something new. They performed their usual sweep of the premises following any time the house was empty not expecting to find any signs of unwarranted entry or any bugs and not finding any. Callum and Ben had been successful.

+++

The MHI team met to go through the bounty from Canning Town with a rare Saturday meeting. Callum, Ben, Frankie and Marcus were leaving for France the following Saturday so they couldn’t afford to wait until Monday. Ben’s and Callum’s children were all exhausted from their trips and were lounging with Robbie on the garden swing bed having a snooze after breakfast so the meeting went uninterrupted but Callum and Ben knew this sleepiness might be short-lived and were keen to get going.

“Right, let’s decide what needs to be done before we down tools for two weeks and what can wait,” instructed Callum. On the screen, he displayed the photographs Ben had taken of Iren’s passports. “Charlie, can you set about investigating Iren’s aliases? We also need you to maintain the electronic surveillance of her through the spyware Ben installed. Frankie, can you do some digging into Anthony from the personal documents we photographed?” Another monitor lit up as these appeared on screen. “Ben, you go through the paying cases and wrap up what you can. If there’s anything we can leave with Meg and Charlie while we’re away, make a list.”

“What’re you going to be doing?” asked Ben curiously, seeing the signs that a plan was afoot.

“I am going to see Meg to talk about the house and Anthony,” replied Callum. “We both need some closure.”

+++

Meg and Callum sat side by side on Meg’s sofa looking through the collection of photos from number one hundred and fifty six. Callum had brought Robbie with him as he had a favour to ask.

“I’m really glad I’ve got you to talk to, Meg darlin’,” said Callum, giving her an affectionate nudge.

“Yeah, me too.” Meg could not put into words how much she appreciated having Callum there. “It’s different from when I was there. All of the furniture is new. The kitchen is new.” She looked at the photographs of Iren’s control centre. “That computer room is insane,” she remarked. “That amount of capacity is not necessary for the money-laundering so … what else are they doing?”

“Yeah,” said Callum. “Ben wondered about that. Maybe we’ll find out from the spyware?” Meg nodded.

“Which room were you kept in?” asked Callum. Meg indicated the room that Anthony currently occupied.

“Six of us shared this room. Mattresses on the floor. A shared trunk of clothes. Whoever was up first got the best stuff. We all got good at sneaking clothes and hiding them in our beds while we slept. We weren’t friends. The door was kept locked. The windows were locked.” The staccato sentences revealed her distress and Callum glanced at her, seeing her eyes brimming with tears.

“What if you needed the loo?” he questioned. Meg shrugged.

“We learned not to need the loo at any time other than around mealtime or client time.” She suddenly shivered and folded her arms around her body, hugging herself as she remembered how she had needed to empty her mind while john after john bought her body. All of those girls had been through the same as her and yet they never spoke to each other, never sympathised with each other and never supported each other. They had all been so frightened. Callum put an arm round her and pulled her towards him. After a moment’s resistance, she succumbed and moved into the hug.

“Which room were you kept in?” she asked, grateful for the warmth she was receiving.

“This one.” Callum showed her a photo. “It was Anthony’s room then. The bed was on this wall here. It was heavy, dark wood with a slatted headboard and footboard. Just a single. We shared it for almost six months. Me tied top and bottom every night. I slept squashed against the wall, hardly able to sleep because I was always waiting for him to …” His breath caught on the last sentence and he felt Meg’s arm come around him returning the comfort but reducing him to tears. They buried their heads in each other as they held on and wept.

“Did it make you feel better to go in the house?” asked Meg a little while later.

“I don’t know if I’m honest,” admitted Callum. “It was like it wasn’t the same place. And Ben was there with me.”

“I kind of know what you mean,” said Meg, spreading out the photos on the coffee table and waving her hand at them. “It’s not the same place.” She reached for Callum’s hand, not quite able to manage the eye contact she wanted to share with him. “Talking about it helps,” she said. “Especially with you … ‘cause you know.”

“You’ve helped me today as well,” he said, noticing that pleasure crossed her face. “We can always talk to each other. We got through it, Meg darlin’, and here we are. In a good place.”

+++

Callum and Ben were worried about leaving Meg alone while they were in France but couldn’t invite her because she was still in hiding. Callum had arranged for her to have Robbie, something she was excited about. Eilish, Frankie’s mum, had agreed to keep an eye on her and walk Robbie which was making them feel a bit better about it. For her part, Meg had been very interested in the idea that she would have been going to France with them had she not been keeping out of sight. They were like a family, a thought that sent a little ripple of pleasure through her as she harboured a quiet hope that they would invite her next summer. She knew that they had told Amanda that they knew where she was living and wanted to find a way to save her from prosecution. Amanda was mulling this over and Meg was hoping hard that she would come up with an idea.

The week before the trip Amanda turned up at Callum’s and Ben’s house. They knew her well and were discouraged to see the gloomy look on her face.

“She’s going to have to give evidence,” she said flatly, once they had settled in the kitchen with their coffees.

“She can’t,” explained Callum. “The gangsters all think now that it wasn’t her. Jackie and Phil made sure of that so that people would stop looking for her. She gives evidence and they’ll all be back on her.”

“Oh well, I can’t be undoing the good work of criminals, can I?” snarked Amanda. She knew well that people aren’t easily divided into two camps, one good, one bad, but she despaired sometimes of Callum’s and Ben’s habit of straddling both worlds.

“How about she tells you all about the tech they’re using in exchange for immunity?” suggested Ben.

“What a great idea? I didn’t think of that,” sniped Amanda, relenting when she saw their upset faces. “Of course I suggested that. But it’s not flying. Evidence and a reduced sentence not immunity is the offer.”

“She gives evidence, she’ll be signing her death warrant. She can’t!” stated Callum. It seemed like an impasse.

“We could try for witness protection.” Amanda was clutching at straws and, anyway, Callum and Ben hated the thought of this. They wanted Meg to live on the next street happily ever after. “She committed a serious crime. We have to be realistic,” insisted Amanda.

“She was coerced into building something to enable somebody else to commit a serious crime,” rephrased Ben. Amanda held up her hands in surrender.

“You know I want to help her,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “I am trying.” She looked completely shattered and Callum put his arm around her.

“I am so happy you’re coming on holiday with us. You need a proper break.” His beautiful smile restored her a little.

“It can’t come a minute too soon,” she replied.


	9. One step back, two steps forward

The convoy of three cars was on its way to France, with much swapping of vehicles based on the musical choices of the drivers and film choices of the passengers.

“Do you think there is anything everybody will hate and then it could be just me and you in the car?” whispered Ben to Callum, pretending to be joking but in fact deadly serious. They couldn’t think of anything. Always a long journey, they had never done it with quite so many stops before, so, although they left at six in the morning and swapped drivers regularly, everybody was exhausted when they arrived just before midnight. Kathy and Mike shepherded everybody to their bedrooms and within half an hour everything was silent.

The children were all staying in the main house with Kathy and Mike and the four couples had a gite each. Ollie’s and Tom’s was the one nearest the beach with the huge sea view; Kathy was undeniably romantic and wanted their first holiday together to be special, a gesture that was not missed by Ollie and Tom as they stood mesmerised by the moonlight on the waves before heading inside. They were too tired to do anything but sleep but Tom insisted he would be up for an early swim. So when Ollie woke in the morning in the bed by himself, he knew that Tom had gone down to the sea. He pulled on swimming shorts and headed out. Sure enough, Tom was in the water.

“Oh man, this is amazing,” he shouted as he saw Ollie approach.

“Shush. It’s not even six in the morning,” scolded Ollie, laughing at his boyfriend’s joy. The gentle chill and diluted sunlight of the early hour made the beach all the more perfect, like they had arrived somewhere unspoilt by humankind, fresh and full of promise. Tom was floating on his back in the shallows, his hair like seaweed around his head and he grinned with pure happiness as Ollie arrived by his side, making Ollie’s heart surge with love. He gazed down at his man, not conventionally good-looking, a little on the scrawny side but utterly gorgeous in his eyes.

“I love you,” he said simply. Tom lifted himself up and stood right in front of Ollie.

“I love you,” he replied. They stood for a while, the sea shimmering around them, soft smiles and sparkling eyes speaking silently of how significant this was to them both.

Steve sat on the front step of his gite watching Ollie and Tom. He couldn’t hear them but he could tell they had just declared their love for each other. They were a great couple of guys, he thought. Ollie was like a tower of strength with uncertainties and anxieties built in, somehow adding to the fortitude rather than diminishing it. Tom was more fluid, always calmly confident, very comfortable in his own skin but perhaps playing it safe with life. Maybe with good cause, thought Steve. Somewhere along the line, they had both learned what it took to be happy and this was what Steve was watching.

“You awake Mand?” he called softly, not wanting to stir her if she was asleep.

“Hmm, just about,” she replied groggily. “Shall I make coffee?”

“I’ll do it,” he offered, jumping up. Soon they were both sitting on the step with their drinks watching Tom and Ollie play in the water.

“It’s hard not to think of work,” said Steve. “Some of the kids we’re working with have terrible summers. But Callum said that I needed to be a beacon of light to illuminate that darkness and I can’t be that if I’m spent. So I’m not going to talk about work and I’m going to try not to think about it while we’re here.” Amanda sensed that he wanted her to make a similar pledge.

“Deal,” she agreed, smiling at him. They spent a few moments looking at each other, recognising the familiarity between them but also reacquainting themselves with what it takes to be happy. Amanda felt a peaceful shiver run through her and thanked her lucky stars for her wonderful husband.

“I love being married to you,” she said. Steve drew her close with an arm around her.

“You are absolutely the best person to be married to,” he replied, kissing her forehead.

Callum and Ben had the gite next to the main house on the beach side. The sea was visible from the window in their bedroom and could be heard sploshing onto the sand as though it was directly outside.

“There are people up. What the fuck is the time?” moaned Ben, covering his head with a pillow. Callum got up to look out of the window.

“Ollie and Tom are in the sea. Amanda and Steve are havin’ a cuppa in front of their gite. They look like they’re watching Ollie and Tom who are being pretty cute. We might have rivals for the great love.”

“No way anyone loves anyone as much as I love you,” declared Ben, his voice muffled under the pillow. Callum’s heart soared.

“Except me loving you, eh?”

“Yeah okay, we’re tied for top place. Now get back in this bed,” ordered Ben, lifting the covers invitingly.

Meanwhile Frankie had just woken. The smell was invigorating, salty, spicy and fresh all at once. Frankie focused on all of the different notes she could pick out, including the sleepy smell of Marcus. She loved the smell of him. Climbing on top of him, she watched him come out of his slumber, his face wakening into a warm smile as his hands caressed her naked body. Leaning down, she kissed him and he responded hungrily.

Kathy and Mike were not able to indulge in early morning love-making as the children woke and got up in one rapid moment. Kojo looked unsure of himself as the Mitchell-Highway brood swarmed through the kitchen collecting food as they went and piling it onto the table outside.

Kojo had never been outside Britain and there was a massive assault on his senses that he was busy processing. The sunlight was bright, bouncing off everything: the house, the plants, the stones on the floor – it was exhilarating. He looked at his skin thinking that it looked darker despite the brighter light, almost blue-black. He’d never actually seen the sea and, more than eating breakfast (despite his hunger), he wanted to go down there and feel it fizzing around his feet. The pull was strong and he left the table and wandered down to the beach, hearing the surf softly enticing him to come closer. Completely unaware that everybody was watching him, he waded into the sea up to his hips, placing his hands flat on the surface of the water. It came from deep inside him, a feeling that he had been here before, and a full-throated joyful roar burst out of him before he threw himself into the water, swimming strongly alongside the beach. It was the most amazing feeling of his life.

“Wow!” Tom whispered to Ollie. “That was like he just broke out of himself.”

Steve watched Kojo - he was typical of the children he tried to help – and his heart lifted as he saw him escape the bonds of his traumatic young life, even if it was just for one glorious moment. Amanda squeezed his waist, knowing what he was thinking.

“Shit! That was something,” exclaimed Ben, wrapped in Callum’s long arms watching Kojo from outside their gite.

“Yeah,” agreed Callum, feeling the shockwaves of Kojo’s joy reach them and kissing his beloved husband.

Lexi had never seen Kojo be free like this. He was the serious one in their group. She didn’t share confidences with him like she did with Lily and Kaffi, he didn’t talk rubbish and make them all laugh like Kaffi did, he wasn’t bold and careless like Lily, but she had a sudden sense that this holiday was going to be fun because he would enjoy it so much and she was really glad he was with them.

A bicycle bell alerted her to the bread delivery and she ran out keen to practise her French on the ever-patient Jean-Paul from the boulangerie. When she returned, arms full of mouth-watering bakery produce, everybody was starting to arrive at the table. Kathy relieved her of her burden.

“Did you chat to Jean-Paul?” she asked, smiling at Lexi’s enthusiasm as she demonstrated her fledgling French. “Call Kojo in from the water, will you?” Lexi ran to the edge of the garden.

“Ko!” she yelled, waving her arms at him. “Breakfast!”

Kathy appeared with even more food and fresh coffee, and before long the whole group was seated and tucking in. Long tables full of food and people were a staple of Mitchell-Highway life and Kojo was a little familiar with the routines. ‘Snooze you lose’ was the general rule. Talk more than you listen was another one. There was a lot of food for which he was grateful, although he was sitting next to Frankie and he quickly saw that she could put away almost as much as him.

“Does anybody have any plans this morning?” asked Callum.

“Ko and me are going to La Longue Plage on the bikes,” announced Lexi, sticking her thumb up questioningly at Kojo. He nodded, up for anything. Ben and Callum looked at her and then at each other. This was a first. She had never been out cycling without an adult.

“Okay, didn’t see that break for independence coming. Are we agreeing to it?” muttered Ben under his breath.

“What do you think? I suppose the road there is more of a path. She’s not likely to come across any traffic.” Callum was inclined to agree to Lexi’s suggestion.

“Yeah, okay,” agreed Ben. He smiled benevolently at their daughter. “We could pack you a picnic Lex. Then you don’t need to worry about getting back for lunch.” He was such a relaxed dad.

+++

The assault on Kojo’s senses continued as he was cycling. He had not known that countryside could smell like this. There was the fresh green of foliage mixed with a cloying but strangely pleasant scent from abundant, colourful flowers, then, layered on top, a soft, powdery breeze and the sharp, salty tang of the sea. It was intoxicating. If Kaffi and Lily were there, they would have been talking non-stop and he was glad to be doing this with Lexi who didn’t feel the need to fill every silence.

Lexi was concentrating hard on riding her bike well so talking didn’t even occur to her. Kojo was riding without holding the handlebars most of the time. He made it seem so effortless but Lexi knew that if she tried that she would fall off and she didn’t want to embarrass herself. Thankfully, it was almost completely flat as she would not have been able to keep up with him if it had been hilly. It was no small relief for her when they arrived at their destination.

“We’re just going to leave the bikes here?” asked Kojo, as Lexi pushed hers over on the grass and set off walking. “How far are we going?”

“It’s about ten minutes,” said Lexi, turning to see him holding onto his bike. “It’s easier to walk the next bit. The bikes’ll be fine.” She saw his confusion. “Who’ll take them?” she reasoned.

As they emerged onto the beach, Kojo stopped still, awestruck.

“I guess it IS called the long beach,” he said, looking each way and not seeing the end of the beach in either direction. There was so much sea.

“We have to be a bit careful here,” Lexi informed him. “There are currents not so far out so we need to stay close to the beach. What do you want to do?”

Kojo looked at her confused. Was he supposed to have ideas? She was taking off her clothes and he hadn’t expected that let alone to be aroused by watching her do it. He was grateful to see that she was oblivious. Underneath her shorts and t-shirt, she had a bikini on. He breathed slowly, urging himself to be calm and stripped off his t-shirt.

“We could sunbathe, swim, walk, talk, read, do puzzles, play cards …” Lexi had packed well. She lay a blanket out on the sand and plopped herself on one half of it pointing at the other half for Kojo.

“Sunbathe?” Kojo asked, sitting down. “I was looking at my skin earlier. I think it looks darker already. Do you think it will go darker in the sun?”

“I don’t know,” replied Lexi. “I just know I have to wear strong lotion because I burn easily. I would love a tan,” she sighed, busy rubbing in her lotion.

“Why?” asked Kojo. “Miss Nelmes, that history teacher, told us that in Victorian times, a tan was unfashionable because it was a sign you worked outside so told everybody you were poor, then by the twentieth century, a tan was fashionable because it was a sign you had enough money to go on holiday abroad. So it’s more about money than what you look like.” He glanced at Lexi. “White people’s problems!” he smirked. Lexi giggled.

“So true,” she laughed. “Can you do my back please?”

Kojo almost stopped breathing. Stay cool, he reminded himself. He was finding his attraction to girls getting the better of him sometimes. Lexi was so pretty and she had absolutely no idea which somehow made her even prettier. But she was his friend and unavailable. Unavailable, he told himself sternly as he applied the lotion.

Laying on the blanket side by side, Kojo flipped onto his front and lay his head to the side to look at Lexi. She lay on her back with large sunglasses on her face.

“What?” she demanded, feeling him looking at her.

“There is NOBODY else on this beach,” he said. “Don’t you think that’s weird?”

“Just a bit further than you can see down there,” Lexi pointed, “it’ll be mobbed. It’s a naturist beach.” She turned her head to face him. “Nudist.”

“Right,” said Kojo, pretending that he’d known this. “You been there?” Lexi pulled an ‘ew’ face.

“It’s full of OLD people, Nan said. Can you imagine?”

“Er, no thanks,” laughed Kojo. They lay quietly for a little while, listening to the surf reaching back and forth on the sand, enjoying the warmth of the sun then Lexi turned onto her front, turning her head to face Kojo. His eyes were shut and she noticed that his face was more relaxed. Ordinarily, his face wore a concentrated frown. She’d always liked to see it disappear when he laughed because it made him look completely different. Looking at him now she felt like she could see what he really looked like.

“What?” he demanded back, eyes still shut but feeling her gaze.

“You look different here,” she commented. “Relaxed.”

“Yeah, well, I’m feeling relaxed,” he confirmed, not opening his eyes. He didn’t want her to see any longing in them and he wasn’t confident he could hide it. She didn’t say anything else and after a few minutes he risked opening his eyes briefly. Hers were shut and he shut his again.

They passed the rest of the morning swimming and playing cards and sunbathing. After they had eaten lunch, Lexi spent some time reading and Kojo wished he had brought a book.

“Did your dads read to you when you were a kid?” he asked.

“Yeah, loads. They still read to me now if I want. Ben loves reading,” she replied. She knew Kojo’s history and, wondering if anybody had ever read to him, on impulse she started reading aloud.

Kojo loved reading himself but this, being read to, was something else. He had read the story Lexi was reading, a couple of times in fact. _To Kill a Mockingbird_ – it was a great story. But listening to it was another experience and it felt like he was hearing something different. After almost an hour of listening, he held out his hand.

“Let me read to you,” he said. That was how they spent the next hour.

Kojo got used to the fact that he would be reapplying Lexi’s lotion every hour and that she was lying right next to him in a bikini. Friend, unavailable, he repeated to himself. It got easier. Occasionally people would walk past them on the beach, smiling at them generously. Kojo wondered if they assumed he and Lexi were boyfriend and girlfriend, if that was what they looked like. He liked the idea of it and, as long as he kept it as a hidden daydream, what was the harm?

“We need to head back,” said Lexi eventually, starting to pull on her clothes and pack. The bikes were exactly where they had left them and the cycle ride home was beautiful, with the light softening into the evening. By the time they got back, dinner was about to be served.

“Just in time,” remarked Ben. “We were wondering when you would be back.” He looked at the young pair and noticed how relaxed and happy they both were. Interesting. But there were no soft glances at each other so he didn’t think anything romantic had gone on between them. He was sure they had been getting to know each other better, strengthening their friendship and it had been good for both of them. “What did you get up to?” he asked, unable to resist being nosy.

“Reading,” said Kojo. “I’ve never had anybody read to me like that. Lexi read aloud.” His wide smile was uplifting and Ben wished he could freeze time, preserve this innocent pleasure forever. Kojo thought it had been the most perfect day of his life.

+++

A few days later, the temperature soared. It was a baking hot day and nobody had any energy for anything other than dipping in the pool. It might have also been something to do with the amount of wine consumed the previous evening. Amanda and Steve had discovered a little wine shop in the local town and after tasting everything recommended by the owner they had bought more or less everything recommended by the owner. Between the ten adults, twenty-three bottles had been consumed.

“Over ten hours, though,” argued Kathy, as though that made it reasonable. As they lay suffering on the loungers around the pool, the children cooked pizzas at lunchtime and fed the poorly adults.

“My gran is tee-total,” commented Kojo, in the kitchen with Lexi, Tyler and Roman. “Means she doesn’t drink alcohol,” he explained, seeing Tyler’s question forming.

“Our grandad ONLY drank beer,” said Roman matter-of-factly. “He was an alcoholic and he died because it killed his liver.”

“Our other grandad is an alcoholic,” said Lexi. Roman and Tyler looked at her, surprised by this new information. “He doesn’t drink any more,” she clarified, “not since he got a new liver.”

Kojo looked at them.

“Shit,” he said. The Mitchell-Highways all nodded seriously.

“Our dads LOVE drinking alcohol but they don’t drink it every day and we make sure they drink lots of water,” said Roman, filling several large jugs with water and ice from the freezer, and commandeering Tyler to help him carry them outside.

“Is that why you won’t drink alcohol?” Kojo leant on the counter and looked at Lexi inquisitively.

“No. It’s not been a thing yet for me,” answered Lexi honestly. She looked back at him thoughtfully. “Did you drink at Jack and Luke’s party?” she asked. Kojo nodded.

“Eloise gave me some of her vodka and coke,” he admitted.

“Do you like her?” questioned Lexi, genuinely curious. “She’s pretty. Tall, tanned, beautiful straight hair.” Kojo heard the comparison and scrutinised her face, looking for low confidence but not seeing it.

“Short, pale and crazy curls can be pretty too,” he said, admiring her boldly. She rolled her eyes. “Obviously not so much in your case though,” he teased, laughing when she huffed at him. He wanted to tell her that he liked her a hundred times as much as Eloise.

“Fair not pale,” corrected Lexi as she pushed him out of the room ahead of her, both loaded with pizzas.

Ben and Callum, lying on one of the double sun loungers, watched them come out of the house, laughing together.

“I think Kojo has a thing for Lex,” observed Ben, “but he’s keeping it hidden.”

“Good,” murmured Callum, half asleep, “she’s too young for all of that.”

“No, Callum, she isn’t,” insisted Ben. “She said Lily, Kaffi and Kojo all got off with people at that party. But maybe she feels too young.” He watched her lift her dress over her head, dropping it on the floor, then mess with her hair to make sure it was securely clipped up and finally jump into the pool as Kojo made a deliberate effort not to watch. She really had no clue.

Kojo went to take water and painkillers to Tom.

“Y’alright mate?” asked Tom, feeling very fragile after the over-indulgence of the night before. He loved good wine and it had all been VERY good wine.

“Yeah,” replied Kojo, handing him the glass of water and some paracetamol. “Are you? You don’t look good.”

“Really? Am I looking pale?” worried Tom. Kojo laughed.

“You’re definitely the darkest white dude here.” He was right. Tom tanned with the merest hint of sunlight and was now a rich mid-brown colour. “Can I get you anything else?” Tom shook his head and Kojo stripped off his tee-shirt and jumped into the pool, spraying them all with water.

“That’s actually rather lovely,” called Steve, laughing as Kojo flicked more water at him. He lay back on his lounger and listened to the children in the pool, enjoying their happiness. All of a sudden, the sadness came crashing in, sadness for all those children who never got this kind of experience, who were at home in squalid flats with inadequate food and neglectful carers and worse. He wanted to change their worlds, wanted everybody to have this love and laughter in their lives. Amanda was watching him and saw the darkness cloud his face.

“Four children here who have all been helped to survive the disadvantages and traumas of their childhoods through strong care,” she reminded him. “It’s something.”

“Yeah but so many, SO many, aren’t helped,” replied Steve. Amanda reached across and stroked his arm.

“I’ve been thinking,” she started, nervous because this was a no going back kind of conversation. “I can retire from the police, get my pension or a lump sum.” Steve looked at her in surprise. She lifted her hand up to his face. “We can’t go on like this, Steve, I know that. We’re both crumbling. And I’ve been thinking that we could do something powerful.” Steve looked at her curiously, certain that she had an idea. “Fostering,” she proposed. “What do you think?”

He looked at her in amazement. He was always proud of her, impressed by her commitment and capabilities, but this was another level.

“Wow, Mand,” he said, at a loss for words.

“It’s something Ollie wants so I’ve been thinking about it,” said Tom, joining their conversation. “Ollie wants to adopt or foster a child with a troubled background.” The three of them looked at the sleeping Ollie, snoring softly on the lounger on the other side of Tom.

“It’d keep him awake,” laughed Steve. “But, for the record, you would both be great parents. Is this it, you and Ollie, in it for the long haul? How long have you been together?”

“That sounds a bit questioning,” remarked Amanda, “but Steve didn’t mean it to sound like that, did you, my love? When you know you know.”

“It’s been five months but I’ve never been as certain about anything in my life. We’re for keeps,” said Tom, unaware that Ollie had stirred and was smiling widely at that declaration. “Ollie mentioned his wish to adopt quite early on and I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I want to do it.”

“Do you?” Ollie sat up on his lounger, wincing as a pain shot through his head. “Do you really?” Tom hadn’t known he was listening so turned over in surprise, seeing Ollie’s pained face.

“I do. Have you changed your mind?” Confused, his face fell as he looked at his scowling boyfriend.

“Not about anything,” Ollie reassured him. “I’m frowning because my head hurts. Otherwise I would be grinning from ear to ear.” He smiled widely to prove it and leaned in to kiss Tom. “For keeps,” he breathed before their lips met.

+++

Halfway through the holiday, Callum and Ben decided to drive to their favourite beach for sundown, well technically drive and walk as it was only possible to park a twenty minute walk away. It was their first wedding anniversary and no-one had remembered it.

“I thought at least mum would have sent a card,” complained Ben.

“Hmm,” hummed Callum, not minding in the slightest. It was their anniversary and only needed them.

They walked in silence then, both thinking back to the day a year earlier. Marriage was not the same as a wedding; in a way, marriage didn’t even need a wedding and they were ALL about their marriage, their union and their commitment to each other. But they both loved a party and sharing with their loved ones, so the wedding had been very special to them.

The evening was warm and they were both wearing shorts, tees, flip flops and sunglasses and Callum was carrying a large back pack.

“What’s in the bag, babe?” questioned Ben.

“Your gift,” said Callum without turning round so that his suppressed chuckle was not visible. “You have got mine, yeah? Don’t want you to feel embarrassed.”

“Not embarrassed,” replied Ben cryptically. Callum was intrigued. Ben had no pockets so definitely had no gift. What was he up to?

As they emerged from the small path that led onto the deserted beach, Callum saw what Ben had done. A blanket and cushions were laid on the sand, a basket and a cool box weighing it down. Tea lights in jars had been arranged along one edge of the blanket and a flare was pushed into the sand on the opposite side. Matches for lighting them rested on the sand. Ben smiled at Callum’s delight.

“Frankie and Marcus came about half an hour ago and set it up for us,” he explained.

“It’s perfect,” said Callum breathily, pulling Ben onto the blanket and immediately moving in close for a passionate kiss. Once they started, they couldn’t stop and in no time shorts and tees were discarded and they were pressed together with as many points of contact as was possible. It was wonderful. The contents of Callum’s bag included lube (“Great planning, babe,” breathed Ben) and before long Callum was inside Ben, Ben’s legs up near his shoulders enabling Callum to get as near as possible, deepening the penetration. They were good at this and today they were especially in synch. Callum felt like he had crawled into Ben’s body and was one with him. Ben felt the invasion and welcomed it, in his turn feeling like he was inside Callum’s skin. Their need to get as close as possible was a screaming imperative in each of their heads. Hands were everywhere, mouths sought each other and Ben could feel his orgasm starting in his toes then relentlessly stampeding through every cell. Callum sensed the advance and a glowing ember deep inside him burst into flames, rapidly consuming every part of him from core to skin. Their climax was massive with them both shouting with ecstasy, gripping on to each other, bodies shuddering and sweating.

“Fuck, babe,” whispered Ben, letting his lifeless legs fall. Callum lay on top of him, recovering his breath, hair flopped across his eyes.

“Yeah,” he agreed. After a few minutes, he pulled Ben to standing and supported him slightly as his legs were still a little wobbly and propelled them towards the sea, falling on his back in the surf as they got there. Ben gently swished the water over their torsos and legs, cleaning them, and then lay himself on Callum, renewing the kissing. It was as though they couldn’t get enough of each other, the feeling of wanting to be one with the other overwhelmingly strong.

Eventually Ben fell on his back and lay alongside Callum, the sea sizzling around their steaming bodies.

“Okay … light-headed … need to breathe …” he gasped. Callum breathed deeply as well. They staggered back to the blanket and stretched themselves out to dry off in the warm evening sun, watching it grow into a rich, crimson orb as it made its way to the sea. Pulling clothes on when they were dry, they watched the sun disappear, the sky remaining pink tinged for a little longer.

“So beautiful,” murmured Callum as Ben struck a match and started to light the candles. “It’s a perfect gift, babe.”

“This isn’t the gift, babe,” explained Ben, extremely pleased with himself. “This is the setting.” Callum laughed at his smugness.

“Perfect setting, babe,” he grinned. “Do you want to do gifts now?” Ben reached into the basket and pulled out an envelope, then took a second look in the basket. There were a number of cards in there. Opening them, he and Callum realised that everybody had remembered their anniversary.

“Oh, look at this one from the kids,” said Callum, re-reading the warm message inside. Ben looked at it carefully.

“That’s one of Roman’s pictures,” he said, admiring the collage of hearts. He looked lovingly at Callum. “We are so fuckin’ lucky to have ‘em.” Callum smiled and nodded, wrapping an arm around Ben’s shoulder as Ben’s arm slid around his waist and resting the side of his head against the side of Ben’s.

“Anyway, here’s my present to us,” said Ben, handing Callum the envelope. In it was a photograph of a beach, a map and a booking confirmation. Callum looked at it all.

“It looks stunning babe … and I’ve never been to Wales.”

“Well, it was that or Hawaii, an’ I thought you’d probably been there already,” teased Ben. Callum giggled, knowing full well their finances would not stretch to a trip to Hawaii.

“I’ve got us a shared present as well,” he said, pulling a box out of the bag. It was beautiful, made from smooth ebony with a heart of polished stone inlaid in the lid. Ben’s fingers caressed the smooth stone before he lifted the lid, revealing their precious declarations stowed inside the box. On the inside of the lid was an inscription:

_Ben and Callum_

_for all time_

_the greatest love story ever told_

“Wow, babe, that’s …” He was speechless and settled instead for another passionate kiss. Pulling away, he wrapped his legs around Callum and pulled himself closer again, resting their foreheads together.

“I love you Callum and will love you for all time. You challenge my shit, laud my good bits, and help me to be the strongest, best person I am capable of being,” he whispered. Callum felt Ben’s words reach him on his soft, warm breath, almost as though he could taste the sentiment.

“I love you Ben, so much, and I will love you for all time. Sometimes I worry that I’m nothing without you but I know that isn’t it, I am everything with you.” He kissed the words into Ben and the pulled back slightly so that they could stare into each other’s eyes.

“Time for beers and goodies,” smiled Ben eventually, reaching across for the cool box.

+++

A couple of days later, Frankie, Ben and Roman decided they were going to do some sketching and painting. It had been a sixty mile round trip the previous day to buy supplies but, as they set off for their day out, Ben decided it had been well worth it. He loved painting.

They went to a nearby picturesque cove with rocky outcrops on the headland and battered fishing boats moored on a rickety, wooden pier. A small café spilled out on to the large square stone setts that gave onto the water’s edge. Frankie was enthralled and went off to take some photographs, giving Ben a rare chance to talk to Roman alone.

“I like this Bubba. Me an’ you making pictures,” he said, watching his young son organise his materials. Roman was incredibly tidy in everything he did. He turned to Ben and gave him a gorgeous, toothy grin and Ben felt his heart melt a bit. He couldn’t bring himself to break into the beautiful moment and he set about organising his own things. As they got underway, he decided to broach the subject he wanted to discuss.

“I was wondering if you … how you feel … you know, about … my prison time. If you have any more questions.” Roman put down his pencil and turned to look at Ben directly.

“We’re different to everybody else,” he said, looking at Ben curiously.

“In what way Bubs?” Ben carried on sketching, feigning nonchalance.

“Being adopted, two dads, no mums, alcoholics, family people in prison.” Roman started fiddling with his pencils, giving away his agitation. Ben crouched down in front of him.

“Alcoholics?” he queried. Where had this come from?

“Grandad died because he killed his liver drinking beer. Grandad Phil has got a new liver ‘cause of drinking alcohol. Lexi told us,” he explained. Ben despaired of not being ahead of the message.

“How do you feel about being different?” he asked softly. Roman looked straight into his eyes.

“Good,” he said. That wasn’t what Ben had expected. Surprising him further, Roman reached down and stroked his face. “Don’t worry Daddy. Our family’s the best. It’s different but we all love each other like loads. You need to draw a line under the prison thing.”

“Draw a line?” Ben was both gobsmacked and amused at that turn of phrase from his nine-year old son. “Okay, yeah, I think I can do that.”

“You’re not the same person as then. You’ve learned from your mistakes,” advised Roman, still stroking Ben’s face. “So none of us need to think about it any more.”

Ah, thought Ben, so he can’t bear to think about it. That made sense. He gathered his fast-growing boy in his arms.

“Love you, Bubba,” he murmured.

“Love you too, Daddy,” said Roman, holding on tight.

+++

Meanwhile, Callum had Lexi to himself. Kojo and Tyler had gone out cycling with Tom and Ollie, Kathy, Mike and Marcus had gone shopping, and Steve and Amanda were out walking. It was unusually quiet.

“How’re you doing sweetheart?” asked Callum, lying on a double lounger by the pool with his daughter. She rolled over onto her side and propped herself up on an elbow.

“Talking time,” she advised, adopting her most grown-up tone. Callum rolled onto his side as well and looked at her earnest face.

“Okay,” he said. “What’re we talking about?”

“You and Dad.” She fixed him with a hard stare. “I know you sorted out Kojo’s brother … and he’s a drug dealer. Kojo told me. If you can scare off a drug dealer, then you must be like proper scary.”

“What’s your question sweetheart?” He watched her determined face, saw her eyes narrow as she was thinking.

“Are you … I don’t know what they’re called,” she said, frowning frustratedly, “… ‘cause sometimes you work with the police and sometimes you don’t but you’re not gangsters, I don’t think, but you’re tough and scary …”

“We’re not gangsters,” promised Callum. “But we’re tough enough to be able to face scary people. Is that what you’re asking?”

“Dad,” she reached across and grabbed his hand, “it’s dangerous to be like that. I know it is. Kojo and me have talked about it.”

“Yeah, you’re right, it is,” admitted Callum. “So what we try to do is keep well away from that world and have nothing to do with criminals. Our first thing is always to involve the police ‘cause it’s their job not ours. But if we have to get involved, like we had to with Kojo, then Dad, me, Ollie, we can all handle ourselves.”

“Using violence,” stated Lexi. Callum looked at her. She was so strong and determined. He definitely didn’t want to lie to her so he nodded.

“Or usually the threat of it,” he qualified. “Just enough to be taken seriously. No more.” She stared at him, her face unreadable then nodded back at him.

“What kinds of thing make you have to get involved?” Callum thought carefully about her question, going back to the times when he’d felt violence was warranted.

“If someone we love is in danger. If someone who is vulnerable is in danger, especially if we’re responsible for them.” 

“But what do other people do? Not everybody can fight like you and Dad.” Lexi was suddenly glad she was talking to Callum. Ben would have been more evasive – she knew he would - but Callum took her seriously and tried to answer her questions properly.

“The truth is, Lex, that most people don’t have this in their lives. Dad and me want to be like that as well - we try really hard to keep away from it - but we’ve never quite managed it. We might have to accept that this is part of our reality.”

“So it’s part of my reality too,” said Lexi, fixing him with a hard stare. “I want to be able to handle myself … if I have to.”

“Right,” he said warily, not quite sure what she meant. “I really, truly hope you never have to Lex.” He needed to talk to Ben about this. They wanted to keep the criminal world away from their children but maybe Lexi was right and it would always be part of their reality so they needed to know how to keep their eyes open.

“Okay,” said Lexi with a note of finality, as though it had all been decided. “So my next question is, how can we get Dad to forgive himself for killing his friend? I mean it is HORRIBLE that it happened, really, really awful, but I’ve tried to imagine it, hitting somebody and then realising that they’re dead. It’s just the worst thing ever. He must’ve felt awful. It’s horrible. I feel really sad for him.”

Callum looked lovingly at his big girl. She was so smart.

“Putting yourself in Dad’s shoes was a good idea. I think it’ll help you understand why he doesn’t want to forget what he did. I think he has forgiven himself but he doesn’t want to forget. Jeez, Lexi, I’m really impressed with you thinking about it like that.” Lexi looked very pleased with herself. “Can I ask YOU a question?” he asked. Her brows furrowed.

“Okay,” she said hesitantly.

“Your friends have boyfriends, girlfriends …”

“Well, not really,” argued Lexi. “Except Bonny and Miles.”

“… okay dalliances,” (Lexi rolled her eyes at the word), “alright, I’m a dinosaur and I don’t have the right words for this but I think you know what I’m saying.”

Lexi started talking about Lily and her numerous crushes, about Kaffi and his determination to be kissed at the Shaws’ party by both a girl and a boy and how he had been texting her all summer about how wonderful the kisses had been, about Luke and Jack Shaw and their constant stream of girlfriends, about Jack’s offer to kiss her, about Kojo and Eloise and how she didn’t think Kojo should bother with Eloise.

“Maybe I should have kissed Jack Shaw, you know, to see what it would be like, but I didn’t really want to. I’m a bit behind everybody else, I think,” she conceded, “or maybe I’m asexual, although maybe not, I like the idea of it all I think.” Callum nodded along. He was picking up a distinctly heterosexual vibe to her chatter and quite possibly a little sub-conscious jealousy of Eloise.

“Just be comfortable with yourself,” he advised. “And remember Dad and me are happy to talk about ANYTHING.”

“Yeah, I know.” She fixed him with her determined stare. “I promise to tell you the important stuff but I’m not going to tell you everything. You know that, right?”

+++

“Just Tyler to go,” said Ben, after he and Callum had shared details of their conversations with Roman and Lexi. “Lexi’s something else, isn’t she? Really high on emotional intelligence.”

They were in their bedroom having a bit of time to themselves before dinner.

“What made me stop and think, when I thought about it afterwards, was that we’re happy for Kojo to see us in action but not Lex. I know Kojo comes from that world but, in a way, so does Lex and I think she was saying that we don’t need to shield her, that she wants to be more aware.” Callum had spent most of the afternoon mulling over the conversation with Lexi. “Do we treat her so carefully because she’s a girl, maybe even more so because she’s a petite, pretty girl? She would absolutely hate that.”

Ben knew Callum was right but he found it hard to let go of his little girl who had wanted a pink, sparkly bedroom and whose favourite toy had been a fluffy unicorn. She didn’t look much different to that little girl, just a bit taller. She was late to puberty, no periods yet, little body hair, breast buds just becoming breasts – she didn’t look grown up. But he knew this was all coming and soon.

“We probably are sexist,” he accepted. “And we don’t want to be, so let’s watch out for it.”

Interrupted by a vigorous knock on their door, Callum opened it to see Tyler and picked up straightaway that, once again, the Mitchell-Highway children had been talking to each other. He glanced at Ben and saw the same realisation.

“Hey Tigg, you alright?” he said brightly. Tyler came in and sat on the end of their bed, his face formed into a clear expression of crossness.

“Ro and Lex said you talked to them about stuff.” He glared at his dads. “Why not me?”

“Timing, Tigg,” said Ben. “It was only today that we talked to them and we haven’t seen you on your own yet. But you’re here now and Dad and me do want to talk to you. Okay?”

Tyler nodded.

“Is it easy to kill someone by hitting them?” he asked. It was an unexpectedly direct question, taking Callum and Ben by surprise coming as it did without any preamble.

“I actually don’t know,” admitted Ben. “I don’t know how you would need to hit someone in order to kill them,” he clarified. “I don’t really like thinking about that.” He was also bothered that this seemed to be what Tyler was thinking about. “I don’t like you thinking about that,” he said disapprovingly.

“I’m not,” sulked Tyler. “You always say we can ask any question. That’s all. And you hit someone and it killed them dead and my question is if it is easy to kill someone if you hit them.” He looked upset and worried leading Callum to a sudden insight.

“Who did you hit Tigg?” Tyler sunk his head confirming Callum’s suspicions. “I’m assuming they’re not dead, though,” said Callum sternly, “or we’d have heard about it.”

“But he could have been,” shouted Tyler, tears pricking his eyes. “If I’d hit him wrong.”

“Yes,” said Ben, sitting forward and grabbing Tyler’s hands. “And you remember that next time you think of hitting someone.” He locked eyes with his young son. “That is what happened to me. I hit her wrong.” Tyler scrambled up the bed and threw his arms around both of them. “Is it a hard thing to think about?” Ben asked, remembering his conversation with Roman. He felt Tyler nodding into his neck. “So, maybe let it come into your head, tell it you don’t like thinking about it, and let it go out again. That’s what I do. And no more hitting people.”

+++

The conversations of the day had the effect of making Tyler, Roman and Lexi a little clingy with their dads. They sat around them at dinner, and curled up next to them afterwards as they all listened to Tom playing his guitar and singing. Ollie could see Kojo watching the snuggling out of the corner of his eye.

“C’m’ere,” he said, pulling him in for a cuddle as they were sitting side by side. Kojo was awkward for a moment and then let himself lean against Ollie. After a while, he twisted his head round to look at him.

“Not counting girls, y’know, when, y’know … I’ve never had a hug. That I can remember,” he murmured, not wanting everybody to hear. He looked up at Ollie’s dark eyes and saw the surprise he had suspected he would see so he dropped his eyes and pulled away. But Ollie wasn’t about to let that happen.

“No, Ko, come back here,” he whispered. “How have you got away with Callum and Ben not hugging you? They can’t help themselves.” He meant it flippantly and was alarmed to see Kojo’s eyes fill up. “Hey, Ko … listen … it’s not because they don’t care about you. We all care about you. But let us in. You’re not on your own.” Kojo nodded.

“Ben did give me a sort of hug once,” he said quietly. “Like an arm round me and a squeeze. It was when I was scared and it did help.”

“They’re not just for when you’re feeling low,” advised Ollie, his voice low to respect Kojo’s confidence. “They’re a way of showing affection. Some people are very tactile, others not so much.” He looked around their group. “But every single person around this campfire is a hugger, so … let them in. If they’re not hugging you, it’s because of the signals you’re sending out.”

Kojo relaxed against Ollie, turning slightly so that his back was against Ollie’s chest and enjoying the strong arm wrapped around his shoulders. He loved his gran and he knew she loved him but she was very formal and wouldn’t even let him lounge on the settee. She expected him to be self-sufficient, sensible and reliable. He was keen to meet her expectations but there was no respite and sometimes he wanted to have a break and be looked after. Many times he’d watched the Mitchell-Highways sprawled over each other and wondered what that kind of physical contact might be like. Just a simple hug from Ollie helped him realise what he was missing – it gave him space where he wasn’t relying on his own resources. It was a very welcome break.

Ollie felt Kojo’s breathing relaxing. He could not quite grasp that this young man had never had a proper hug. Ollie’s own parents were very tactile. So were Tom’s. Looking across at Callum and Ben, he thought that maybe they had been short on hugs in their childhoods. Kathy was a big hugger but Ollie knew she had been missing for Ben when he was between ten and eighteen. He smiled to himself as he realised what Callum and Ben would do with this information. Kojo would find himself hugged every other minute.

“Is it okay to tell the others about your lack of hugs?” he asked. Kojo was still for a few moments and then Ollie felt him nod.

Tom was playing, singing, interacting with his audience, responding to their requests and watching Ollie and Kojo. He thought Kojo looked upset and Ollie seemed to be reassuring him. It seemed like it was working as Kojo visibly relaxed. Ollie’s idea about adopting a troubled teen had taken root in Tom’s mind and he found himself thinking about it every day, aware that he probably wanted it even more than Ollie now. People were drifting off to their bedrooms, so he stowed his guitar and went to join Ollie and Kojo. Seeing him approach, Kojo extracted himself and got up ready to leave.

“Don’t get up man,” sighed Tom, sad to have brought the cuddle to an end, “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“’S okay,” said Kojo, turning to bump fists with Ollie. “I’m going to bed.” He was standing in front of Tom and it occurred to him that he could copy the goodnight routine of the other kids so he opened his arms. Tom stepped in willingly and gave him a big squeeze.

“G’night Ko,” he said.

“Yeah, g’night,” smiled Kojo. It had been easy to do. It had been warm and caring. He went back to the house feeling lighter.

“What was all that about?” Marcus asked Ollie, having also witnessed the whispered conversation. He, Ben, Callum, Ollie and Tom were the only ones left up and were sat around the fire about to enjoy a nightcap.

“Kojo has never been hugged.” Ollie looked at Callum. “I wondered if you could relate.” Callum shook his head.

“Not really. A bit I suppose but my grandad was a big hugger. I think that’s where I get it from.” He turned to Ben. “We’ve talked about Kojo.” Ben nodded his agreement as Callum continued. “It feels like he would feel awkward if we hugged him. So we don’t.”

The five men sipped their beers each thinking about Kojo.

“This trip is going to change his life,” said Marcus. “That moment he had in the sea …”

“Lexi reading aloud to him …” added Ben,

“Hugs from Ollie and Tom,” Marcus continued.

“Me and Tom? Who are you kidding?” laughed Ollie. “The poor guy will be plagued with Mitchell-Highway affection from now on.”

+++

The following day, Kathy, Mike, Amanda and Steve were going out sailing. Mike had sailed all his life and kept his small yacht at a local marina. He’d taken the boat out every day of this holiday as the children were all keen to learn more. Amanda and Steve had done a lot of sailing with their children in years gone by and were very excited about picking up their old hobby. Callum proposed a long walk to La Plage Perdue for the rest of them as Mike would be able to moor the boat in the bay there.

“It’s lost because it is really hard to get to and takes HOURS to walk there,” moaned Lexi to Kojo.

“You goin’ on the boat then?” asked Kojo. Lexi could see that he was keen to walk and was bolstered by his enthusiasm and wanted to walk with him, but before she could reply and convey that she was excited about the trek, the words were taken away from her.

“We’re all walking,” said Callum, overhearing the question. “And we’re all carrying supplies.” He fixed a glare on Lexi knowing that she was an expert at avoiding carrying her share. She glared back angrily. Now Kojo would think she was two kinds of lazy. It was frustrating. She hated being so short and thin (and weak in her mind) and just knew that this hike was going to expose her frailties.

Unbeknownst to Lexi, Frankie wasn’t feeling very well, and before long they had fallen far behind the men. Their packs were heavy for them but they had both been too proud to pick up the lightest loads.

“Say our stride is twenty centimetres shorter than theirs, and we take say one hundred steps a minute, so that’s twenty metres a minute, so … over one point two kilometres in an hour,” calculated Lexi. “This walk takes three hours, so that’s three point six kilometres behind. With us going at the same speed as them, which we’re not.”

“Good maths,” complimented Frankie, not following Lexi’s haphazard signing except to know she was calculating something.

“Roman and Tyler are shorter than me, but only a bit and they’re not as skinny and they’ve got bigger muscles and they take big strides.” Lexi sighed heavily. “They’re stronger.”

“Me and Meg are small. Kathy and Amanda are as well. It’s okay isn’t it?” asked Frankie. Lexi looked at her doubtfully.

“It’s okay when it comes to being cute … but not when you actually want to do things.” They trudged on, Lexi continuing to moan and becoming increasingly miserable and Frankie becoming aware that Lexi often felt like she was struggling to keep up with her brothers and that nobody cared that she was a girl.

Drawing near to the hidden beach, they approached from the clifftop.

“Look,” said Lexi, pointing out to sea and waving wildly at a sleek yacht with swollen white sails, bouncing along the waves. “There’s Mike.” She turned to Frankie. “Let’s make sure we go back with them,” she suggested conspiratorially. Sailing was becoming one of her favourite activities.

“Yes, great plan,” agreed Frankie. They scrambled down the cliff path and, only a couple of metres from the bottom, Frankie gave a soft yelp as she slipped, going over on her ankle. The colour drained from her face and her eyes popped out in pain but she didn’t make a sound as she lay crumpled on the floor. Lexi looked at her for a horrified moment and then sprang into action.

“Dads!” she shouted, dropping to Frankie’s side, checking that she was still breathing and conscious. Callum was there immediately, followed swiftly by Marcus. Frankie was clearly in pain, unable to speak and within minutes her foot was twice its normal size.

“We need to get her to a hospital,” said Callum, unsure of how that was going to be managed as he looked at the cliff path. He and Marcus stared at each other, both at a loss. Fortunately, Mike was able to come up with a plan. He brought the tender to shore and Frankie was lifted into it and taken to the yacht. They were going to sail round to the nearest town and get a taxi to the hospital from there.

“We’ll get some dinner in the town and you can drive up and collect us when you get back to the house,” said Kathy. “We can moor the boat there and bring it back another day.”

So, rather than spending a perfect few hours jumping off the yacht and swimming in the turquoise sea, Lexi was left with a day on the beach with seven men. She knew they would play cricket and badminton and volleyball and they’d all be really good at it and she would be rubbish. It was beyond frustrating and grumpily she lay on a blanket. She didn’t even have her book. And to add insult to injury, those idiots didn’t even notice that she was cross. Kojo, Roman and Tyler were in the sea and for a moment she was very tempted to join them but then it might look like she was not annoyed with all of them so she stayed put. Shutting her eyes and ears determinedly, she stretched out in the sun.

“Can I do your back?” asked Ben, appearing at the bottom of the blanket holding a bottle of lotion.

“Thank you,” said Lexi, flipping onto her front. Ben rubbed in the lotion waiting for her to talk. “You left me and Frankie behind,” she complained. Ben was a little surprised at this.

“It looked like you were having a good natter. We thought it was what you wanted. You both slowed right down.”

“Yes, ‘cause our packs were heavy and our legs are shorter,” she huffed.

“I didn’t realise. I’m sure the others didn’t either.” Ben was realising now that the hike had been particularly physically strenuous for Lexi and Frankie.

“Well, no, you wouldn’t would you when you’re all being so impressed with how strong and sporty the boys are?” snarked Lexi. Ben felt guilty at that. He, Callum and Ollie had been saying exactly that during the walk. It was easy to appreciate how it was making Lexi feel.

“Fair point,” he conceded, laying down on the blanket next to her. She reached for the bottle and pushed him onto his front so that she could repay the favour.

“I wish I was stronger,” she said, rubbing the lotion into his back. “And taller. I’d really like to be taller.”

“Well, you can blame your mother for that,” said Ben complacently. He turned his head to look at her. “Seriously, sweetheart, taller? Why?”

Lexi couldn’t really explain it. She knew she wasn’t less of a person because she was physically less. Callum came over having collected the packs that Frankie and Lexi had dropped at the bottom of the cliff.

“Why did you and Frankie had the heaviest packs?” he asked, confused, holding up the packs.

“You were the one who said we had to carry our fair share,” snapped Lexi. Callum flinched at her annoyance. “You did,” she protested, irritated by his hurt face.

“This isn’t what I meant,” said Callum, easily lifting the packs above shoulder level, one in each hand. “Can you do what I just did? Have a go.” Predictably Lexi couldn’t do it. “So it would only be fair if I carried more.” Lexi scowled at him irritably. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more helpful, Lex.”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” she moaned and stomped down to the water to join the boys.

“What the fuck was that about?” questioned Callum. “Honestly, I didn’t mean to annoy her.”

“She doesn’t like being small,” suggested Ben. “Or maybe that she doesn’t like being smaller than all of us. Not something we can change.”

“She does look younger than, say, Lily and Bonny. Could that be a problem for her?” wondered Callum, settling himself on the blanket next to Ben. “She is a late bloomer.”

“A late what?” laughed Ben. “You sound like an ancient aunty. But yeah,” he added hastily, seeing Callum colour with embarrassment, “she is late, not very late though, nothing to be concerned about.”

On her way to the sea, Lexi diverted to sit with Tom. Ollie was busy sorting out lunch and Tom was sitting by himself, looking so at peace with the world that Lexi was drawn to him.

“Hey, Lex,” he said, seeing her approach. “You’ve caught me resting. That hike was like a flipping jog. We should not have let Ollie and Callum set the pace. I hope Frankie didn’t fall ‘cause she was tired.”

“I don’t know, maybe, but I think it was just an accident,” said Lexi. “You should have walked with us instead of them.”

“Dead right. That’s what I’ll be doing on the way back. Well not with Frankie obviously, me and you, eh?” Lexi sat next to him suddenly feeling a bit weepy and he put an arm around her when he spotted her wobbly lip. He’d noticed that she competed hard to do everything that Kojo, Tyler and Roman did. He’d also picked up that she was jealous of the way Ben and Callum both enjoyed the rough and tumble play with their boys.

“You’re not right, you know,” he said, giving her a supportive squeeze so that she would know he wasn’t criticising. She looked up at him wondering what he was meaning. “Thinking that you don’t have as much to offer as the others.” He waved at the group in the water. “You think your dads are not as impressed with you as with your brothers.”

“No,” she replied then hesitated. “Well, okay, yes.” She looked up at him. “My dads, they’re strong and tough. And they think the boys are gonna be as well but they don’t think I could be.” He nodded. 

“I get it,” he said empathetically. “When they went off to help Kojo with Ollie, they didn’t ask me. Maybe I would have been no use at that but I do have a lot to offer at other times. So do you. We know we do so we’ve just got to be ready to shine brightly when it’s our turn. We’re strong and tough. Our time will come.” 

Tom was always so calm and reassuring, full of warmth and care and a ready smile. Lexi adored Ollie and was delighted that he had brought his wonderful boyfriend into her life because she adored Tom as well.

Some time after lunch, as they were packing up ready for the return journey, Callum and Ben were pleased to see a happier Lexi taking daft photos with Kojo to send to Kaffi and Lily later.

“We need to find out the ingredients of your magic potion,” said Ben to Tom. “Come on, spill - what did you say to her?”

“Just explained how she has just as much to offer as anybody else.” Callum and Ben looked at him sceptically. No way was it that easy. They told her that all the time.

+++

It was nearing the end of the holiday and Kojo was up early, a habit he never had at home but here it seemed he couldn’t help himself. He had been forbidden to swim until an adult was up but the sea always called to him and he loved to splash in the shallows. It was usually Tom who was up first and they would swim together but this morning he arrived to see Lexi at the water’s edge. She was wearing an oversized white off-the-shoulder top, knotted at the side, and her hair was down, sparkling white in the morning sun. Despite all of her complaining, she had picked up a bit of a tan which was contrasting with all the whiteness. Usually she was fidgety, always dancing and jumping around, but this morning she was still like a statue. Kojo didn’t want to disturb her moment and stood back just watching. It was mesmerising and he wished again that he didn’t fancy her as much as he did.

He saw her start to turn and advanced, hoping that it looked like he had just arrived. Her smile when she saw him made his heart stop.

“You look great … in the top … and the hair …” It all came out before he could stop himself.

“You look great in no top with no hair,” she retorted with a wide grin. She was VERY pleased to have the compliment but didn’t want to be all swoony about it.

“Er … I have hair. It’s just short.” He was relieved that it hadn’t seemed like he was coming onto her. “D’ya wanna walk, Lex?”

“Yeah,” smiled Lexi, hooking her arm in his. He wasn’t expecting it as they had walked loads during the holiday and not once had she done this but he’d seen her walk like this with Kaffi - it was a gesture of friendship. He aimed for relaxed; he could take this in his stride.

“I’m really grateful to your dads, and Ollie and Tom,” he said. “They’ve changed my life. But, and don’t tell them this, what am I going to do if Arko catches up with me and they’re not there? He doesn’t go anywhere without a gun. And a knife. I think I need to learn how to defend myself.” He expected Lexi to discourage him but was to be surprised.

“I want to know how to defend myself,” she said. “I reckon my dads will think it’s important for Ro and Ty to … it’s that phrase they use … ‘handle themselves’ … so it’s important for me too.” She turned to Kojo. “Maybe we could do it together?”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.” He had no idea what it was that she thought they could do together but whatever it was he was in. She wasn’t ready for anything more with him, there’d been no sign that she even thought momentarily about him in that way, but she WAS his friend. She knew more about him than anyone else, even Kaffi, and, after this holiday, he knew a lot about her. They had spent hours talking about their interests, their histories and their values. She was his closest friend and he was not going to do anything to jeopardise that. “I’m glad you’re my friend, Lex. It’s immense,” he said. She stopped dead still and pulled him round.

“We are, aren’t we?” she said, looking straight into his eyes. “Like best friends. Should we do a blood oath or something?” He looked at her for a twinkle in her eye, any sign that she was making fun of him, but saw utter sincerity.

“Oh my god, you’re serious, you nutter,” he exclaimed. “No, I am not slicing my hand to share blood with you.” Lexi fell over she was laughing so hard. Kojo picked her up. “Idiot,” he said, putting her on her feet. “You say a word about this back at the house, and I will take my friendship back.”

“Don’t ever do that,” she said, squeezing his hand. This time he knew she was being sincere.

+++

Frankie was very frustrated to find herself in a walking support boot for the rest of the holiday. She didn’t want Marcus to miss out and encouraged him to go out with the others, leaving her back at the house by herself at times. Her mum, Eilish, had been tasked with checking on Meg while they were all away so she called her to find out how things were. Everything was fine but Eilish, sensitive as ever, was concerned about how long Meg was going to be alright without any progress in her situation so Frankie connected with Charlie to see if they were any nearer to finding another route to help her.

Charlie was thrilled to see her and demanded that she showed him around. He was captivated by the virtual tour of Kathy’s and Mike’s place, not that he wished he was there - it was enough to see it on screen. Frankie hobbled around trying to capture it as best she could. It lifted her spirits enormously to see his delight. He made her promise to make a long video of the sea.

 _You can get that kind of thing online_ she typed.

 _I want the real thing_ he replied. She smiled at his idea of the real thing.

Soon they got around to discussing Meg’s predicament. Meg was happy to give Jackie’s system to the police. The trouble was that, even though she built it because she was afraid of Jackie, she had knowingly created a system to exploit people as part of a money-laundering racket for organised crime. She had undoubtedly done wrong. If she gave evidence, Callum and Ben might be able to persuade Jackie to leave her alone, but the drug racketeer Kings and the Jusufi family with their sex business would be another matter. She was only safe from them because they didn’t know about her involvement.

 _Mum’s worried about Meg’s MH_ wrote Frankie referring to Meg’s mental health.

 _Yes me too_ was Charlie’s response.

They fell silent for a few minutes.

 _Let’s set up a group call_ suggested Frankie.

 _Okay_ agreed Charlie. They both knew Callum and Ben would be annoyed but just a few minutes later, the three of them were chatting and quickly got on to the idea of giving evidence to the police.

Frankie: _C and B can stop Jackie, but not the people who she works for_

Meg: _I know._

Frankie: _If you give evidence, they’ll come for you_

Meg: _I know._

Charlie: _You have to stay hidden_

Meg: _I can’t. Or I can for a bit longer but not forever. I’m sorry but I can’t. I’m different to you Charlie._

Frankie: _Amanda suggested witness protection_

Meg: _No. I’m not living somewhere else._

Frankie: _So what then?_

Meg: _I can’t hide, I can’t move, I can’t go to prison. I would rather die than do any of those things._

It was a stark comment but there was no doubt Meg meant it. Frankie felt the desperation settle like a heavy stone in the pit of her stomach. Charlie’s face flicked up on her computer screen silently pleading her to think of something.

Frankie: _Can we take a leaf out of Jackie’s book and set someone else up for it? Iren?_

Meg: _She didn’t do it though. You’re talking about setting somebody up who is innocent._

Charlie: _She is not innocent. She runs the system now._

Meg: _The police already know I built it anyway. I have been thinking about all of this. I want to give the police everything._

The three of them fell silent for a few minutes. There wasn’t a ready solution.

Meg: _Let’s not talk about it. Show me France, Frankie._

So Frankie found herself doing another virtual tour.

Meg watched avidly, thinking that this was where she would be right now if she had made better choices. She had never seen the sea, swum in a swimming pool or even lay on a sun lounger. These were things she wanted to do but it seemed like it was a hopeless dream. She saved the tour knowing that she would be revisiting, probably often.

+++

Late into the evening, Frankie, Callum and Ollie were the only ones left up.

“I know Ben’s going to be pissed at me,” started Frankie. “I spoke to Meg today. She said she can’t hide for the rest of her life, she can’t move from where she knows and she can’t go to prison. She said she’d rather die.” Finally, after hours of wrestling with this knowledge, the tears came. Callum scooted over to sit with her and held her tight. He felt like crying himself and knew that he would be doing so if he’d been the one to hear the words first-hand. Ollie watched them, understanding that they believed Meg to be serious.

“Dad and I will represent her if she’s charged,” he said. “We have a great track record of keeping much worse people charged with much bigger offences out of jail. And … Lucas’ firm will be representing Kings and the Jusufis. We can feed him what we want them to know about her. Something that keeps her safe from them, something that suggests that the police had come upon the evidence another way and are using Meg to corroborate it. He’ll support us, I know he will.”

“What? So there’s a chance if she gives evidence, we can keep her safe?” Frankie’s tearful hopefulness touched Ollie. He was going to do his best to make this work out for Meg. It would mean some devious dancing around the truth but he was going to do it.

“Yes, definitely,” he replied. If he had been at all unsure of what he was offering, Callum’s look of gratitude would have blasted those uncertainties away. “Right,” he smiled, “I’m off to give my man some loving attention.”

“Good idea,” laughed Frankie. “Me too.”

Callum watched them walk back to their gites. It had been months since his last panic attack but he was absolutely convinced that Meg meant what she had said and he could feel anxiety bubbling up in him. Wandering down to the beach, he sat on the sand and dried to breathe deeply, sinking his head between his knees.

Ben saw him from the bedroom. He was smoking a sneaky spliff out of the side window, enjoying the familiar churn of the waves as he let his mind switch off. He’d had to wait until his mum, Amanda and the children were all asleep before indulging in the weed; the others weren’t interested in partaking but they didn’t mind if he did. Well maybe Callum minded a bit but Ben planned to make up for it in ways that Callum liked. He’d been playing through a few ideas of what Callum liked when he saw him sink into the sand. Ben knew what he was seeing, extinguished his smoke and raced down to the beach.

The constriction around his chest had started and now Callum was panicking that his breathing exercises weren’t working. He tried desperately to focus on what was immediately around him: the wavy reflection of the crescent moon in the sea, the shush of the surf, the smell of the extinguished log fire, the slight spray of the waves as they came in. He repeated the routine but his vision was blurring and a whooshing sound was filling his ears as his chest tightened and he battled to take in a breath. It wasn’t working and the loss of control was scaring him. Then he felt a hand over his heart. Ben. It was all he needed. Ben came around the front of him and his concerned eyes stared into Callum’s anxious ones. Climbing onto his lap, he gathered Callum to him and held on tight.

“I got you, babe,” he whispered, kissing his hair. Callum felt the tightness easing and breathed deeply into Ben’s shoulder, taking in his smell, the sound of his breathing, the feel of his body.

“I love you,” he murmured. Ben held him even tighter in response. Eventually Callum was restored and they lay side by side on the sand as he explained about Meg. He knew Ben would understand as he had been in that dark place himself on more than one occasion. He did.

“When all the options are things you know you don’t want, there is always THAT option,” he said sadly before turning towards Callum with a more determined attitude. “We need to get going on helping her as soon as we get back.”


	10. The means justifies the end

While the rest of the MHI team had been gallivanting in France, Charlie had been snooping around Iren’s system courtesy of Ben’s spyhole and had amassed a huge stash of information. It answered lots of questions and he was especially pleased to be able to answer the questions that the Organised Crime Unit had posed. He decided that he was going to meet DI Peacock and DS Akhtar screen-to-screen, feeling that allowing them to see his face was a gesture of trust. The idea of working for the police appealed to him; he recognised it as a personal step forward, one that he wanted to take. Ben had agreed to be on the call just in case he needed some support and Ollie was there to get some pointers to start building the case to defend Meg. Callum was working on regular cases across the room.

“You good, Charlie mate? I’ve missed you,” Ben said, smiling widely at the screen. With his glowing tan and an abundance of fresh freckles, he looked amazing, thought Charlie. “You’re looking great,” continued Ben cheerily, unconsciously echoing Charlie’s thought.

“You’re looking great as well,” replied Charlie, getting as close as he ever would to flirting and just as swiftly moving away from it. “And I’ve missed all of you.”

“Me most of all?” Callum called from across the room before appearing in the shot with his huge sunbeam smile, saying, “Or more than Ben at least?” Ben rolled his eyes at Charlie before turning his face upwards to Callum for a quick kiss. Charlie grinned. He loved these daft men.

“Are you ready, Charlie? They’re about to join us,” checked Ben, returning his attention to Charlie and waiting for his confirmation before opening up the call. Charlie nodded and focused as Amanda and Adam appeared.

“Hi Charlie,” said Amanda warmly. “It’s very nice to see you.” Adam smiled his agreement. If either of them thought Charlie’s appearance was unusual there was not even a hint of it and Ben was grateful for their open-mindedness or their tact - he didn’t care which it was as long as they were kind to Charlie. Knowing Charlie well, he was able to see his anxiety recede as the police officers treated both of them in exactly the same way.

“Hello DI Peacock, DS Akhtar,” greeted Charlie politely. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too Charlie. I like to put a face to a name,” replied Amanda. It wasn’t that easy to see Charlie with his pale skin and white clothes set against the white background and bright lights in his home. What she could see, however, was a pair of sharp, intelligent eyes. Charlie had been able to help her unearth a few stubbornly buried facts over the past few months and she was impressed with him.

“So our first question was about the identity of Iren Gribkova,” she began, pausing to let Charlie take over. He took his cue seamlessly.

“Her real identity is Elaine Gough. Not Russian but British,” he explained. He couldn’t tell Amanda and Adam about the passports as Callum and Ben had got the photos of them by illegally breaking into the house in Canning Town but Elaine’s real passport had been amongst the collection. “She’s twenty-nine. Born in Basildon in Essex into a notorious crime family. Her dad is David Gough, brothers Andrew and Dennis but the main person is her mum, Anne-Marie, maiden name Maguire. They have a big building firm which fronts a lot of their activities from Southend across to Barking. It’s a massive operation.”

“But we have recordings of her speaking with a Russian accent,” queried Adam. Charlie shrugged.

“Fake,” he stated.

“Maguire,” raised Amanda. “Not related to …?”

“Aidan. Yes, Anne-Marie is his sister.” Charlie let the confirmation sink in. Callum had stopped his work across the room and was paying close attention. Ben looked round at him and caught his gaze, establishing their unspoken lines of support as their eyes locked onto each other. Charlie carried on. “Anthony Garvey and Jimmy Blackwell both have working relationships with the Gough family.” Oops, thought Ben, thinking that it sounded as though they all knew Anthony but, as far as Amanda and Adam were concerned, that hadn’t been established. Jimmy Blackwell, yes. Anthony Garvey, no.

“Anthony Garvey? That name rings a bell,” mused Amanda. She sifted her memory banks quickly trying to find him but coming up with nothing. She knew she had come across him, though.

“Did Anthony Garvey work for Aidan?” she questioned, her instincts as finely honed as always. Frankie had put together a useful file of information about Anthony’s activities from her surveillance of him but Charlie decided now to share it at another time. He maintained a neutral expression, keen not to make another mistake. Callum and Ben saw him and then shared a look before Callum spoke up, his voice slightly trembling.

“Anthony was part of Aidan’s armed robbery gang … with me. I was kept at a house in Canning Town thirteen years ago. Meg was kept at the same house six years ago. Anthony was gaoler for both of us.” Amanda’s breath caught as her empathy kicked in. Of course, she knew Callum and Ben, and Meg as well, had endured horrific ordeals but to hear it spoken about like this, simply and directly from the abused, was very real. Her desire to turn back time and undo all the harm was strong and she allowed herself a few moments to be solely Callum’s friend. There was a silence amongst the convened group as they all remembered. Amanda broke the moment as she returned to her police officer’s perspective. She had a growing feeling that they all knew a lot more than her and it was irritating her to be in the dark.

“So you know something about this house?” she asked Charlie. Charlie shared a picture of the house on a screen. Adam and Amanda stared at it and then at each other.

“Elaine and Anthony share the house in Canning Town. Elaine has set up a control centre …” Charlie stopped abruptly seeing that Amanda and Adam had something to add.

“This place is in our files,” Adam informed them. “It’s been reported by neighbours for suspicious goings-on over a lot of years. One neighbour had photographs of the girls around the time Jackie and Debs were running their sex racket but every time the house was raided, there was nothing.”

“Clearly, there’s a mole in our team,” said Amanda sourly. “More than one possibly. Anyway, we couldn’t meet the burden of proof. It’s been off our radar recently … wait…” Ollie froze and Ben and Callum held their breath as Amanda took a moment before turning to Ben. “You’ve been in there? You have, haven’t you?” she sighed, knowing there was no stopping Ben and Callum. They operated by their own rules no matter what she said. “What did you do? Bug the place?”

“Er … well … sort of.” Ben threw a forgiving glance at Charlie who looked mortified at MHI having been found out. “We loaded some spyware directly onto her system. It’s not as easy to detect that way than a normal hack. It had to be as invisible as possible.”

“You do understand the evidence is unusable when you break and enter illegally and collect evidence without a warrant,” snapped Amanda.

“Yes, but you could get a warrant now and then get all this evidence for yourself,” reasoned Ollie. Adam almost nodded his agreement until he caught sight of his boss’s face.

“And our grounds for obtaining a search warrant?” demanded Amanda, her blood boiling.

“I can help with that,” insisted Ollie. “I’ll separate the evidence you can use from the evidence you can’t use.” He watched Amanda hopefully, aware that she was solution-focused and would want to move forward positively. What he hadn’t considered was that she had handed her notice in on the day she returned from France but had three months to work before she finished, and she didn’t want her career to end in disgrace. At the same time, to wrap up this case would be a great end to her career.

“Okay, let’s have all of it,” she said a little grumpily. Adam grinned at Charlie offering some much needed reassurance.

“Elaine’s control centre is at the house. It is huge which tells us that the operation is huge. She is money-laundering for Debs as well as her and Jackie’s clients including Kings, the Jusufis and the Goughs. Kings is also passing on money from other drug dealers, eleven of them, for laundering. Their names are here,” he indicated a second screen.

“What is Debs doing?” asked Adam.

“Still people smuggling, but slavery now as well,” advised Charlie. “On an enormous scale. It’s … shocking.” His face revealed that he was indeed appalled. “Elaine was also setting up a slavery operation with her mum but Debs closed that down in June. Or thinks she did. I have communication between Elaine and her mum suggesting that they are biding their time. Somehow, Elaine has all of the criminal enterprises bugged.” Charlie knew that Meg had placed these bugs under Jackie’s instruction but he had obscured her activity as best he could, removing what he could and adding false evidence where he couldn’t hide what she had done. He had no qualms about suggesting Elaine was responsible for the bugs. Now, for anybody investigating, it definitely looked as though Meg had been coerced with the threat of violence but hadn’t done as asked so Elaine had finished off the task. “She knows, and so the Gough family know, exactly what everybody else is doing. Their main activity is weapons but, through the money-laundering and their covert surveillance, they have knowledge and control of pretty much everything.”

He had shared all of this with Ollie already and noticed him observing the police officers’ reactions. Ollie’s job was to sell a story about Meg to the police that they would believe and Charlie was focused on doing everything he could to support him. Suddenly, Ollie turned to face him and winked. Things were obviously going according to plan and Charlie’s mood lifted.

“So, your theory is the Goughs are wanting to take over East London?” asked Adam.

“Yes it’s likely,” confirmed Charlie. “All of the money from crime north of the river from Docklands to Southend goes through them. They’re their own accountants as well.” Adam and Amanda looked at each other. This was truly massive.

“Right Ollie, let’s figure out how to get this warrant. The rest of you can help,” instructed Amanda. The six of them set about sifting through the evidence. This case now needed to be done correctly.

+++

The next stop for Callum, Ben and Ollie was Meg’s flat. She knew Ollie a little but Callum and Ben knew that she wouldn’t cope with Ollie turning up by himself. Charlie had done the best he could to minimise what could be discovered about Meg’s involvement with Jackie and now that Ollie was confident that he could keep her out of prison, he wanted to discuss his plan with her.

“Meg darlin’,” Callum greeted her with a hug as he went through her front door first. Ben came next, grasped her hands and gave them a squeeze as he kissed her cheek. He was followed by Ollie who was uncertain about what to do and settled on shaking her hand. She followed them in, totally confused about the nature of a normal greeting.

She had placed a dining chair in the middle of the room facing the sofa as though she was expecting an interrogation.

“Mine’s a coffee,” requested Ben even though Meg hadn’t offered them drinks, his ulterior motive to send her into the kitchen so that they could decide where she was to sit. She looked enquiringly at Callum and Ollie.

“I’ll have one of your lovely hot chocolates,” said Callum, almost licking his lips in anticipation. Discovering that they both made it with frothy milk, melted real chocolate into it and then sprinkled more chocolate on the top, he and Meg had bonded over the drink.

“Black coffee, no sugar, thanks,” said Ollie, giving her a friendly smile, then turning to see Ben sitting on the chair in the middle of the room with a folding table pulled out and placed between him and the sofa. Ollie took the arm chair and Callum sat on the sofa leaving Meg to sit on the sofa with him. She arrived back in the living area with a tray of drinks which she placed on the small folding table and frowned at Ben as she sat next to Callum. The cheeky pest winked at her which she ignored as she concentrated on Ollie.

“Are you not having a drink?” was his first question, much to her frustration. Did it look like she was having a drink? She just wanted to get on with it. Realising that she was not going to answer, he carried on. “They are going to charge you, Meg. They have to. It will likely be aiding and abetting money laundering.” He stopped, watching Meg as she curled forward almost into a ball shape.

 _It’s okay. She’s listening … only listening_ signed Ben. Ollie understood. Meg was making sure there were no other sensory stimuli so that she could focus completely on what he was saying.

“Our defence will be two pronged. First, you were under threat of violence, threat to life, when you committed the crime. Second, the evidence shows you withdrew your activity before the crime commenced.” He was aware that this wasn’t strictly true; Charlie had fixed the evidence to make it look like this which was fine with him. He was only concerned with what the evidence NOW showed. “It’s a good defence,” he continued. “I don’t think we can argue that you didn’t know what your work was going to be used for so an acquittal is extremely unlikely. Does that seem about right to you?”

“Yes,” came Meg’s muffled voice from her face pressed into her thighs.

“You understand that you’ll be found guilty,” he paused as he saw her nod then carried on, “so you’re going to plead guilty. It will look like you understand about wrongdoing and that you’re repentant. Helping the police is a plus for you as well. It’s your best chance of a suspended sentence. But you understand that you will have a criminal record … forever?”

“Yes,” affirmed Meg. “I am guilty. I want to plead guilty.” Ollie had been worried about this. He didn’t want Meg to act TOO guilty.

“You don’t want to go to prison Meg and I know how to make sure of that, so you’re going to need to trust me, trust me completely, and say exactly what I tell you to say. It will be the truth but it will also be a performance with a script, lines to learn. You get me?”

Unfurling her body, she placed her hands flat on her thighs and focused her gaze on her chewed fingernails.

“I do,” she confirmed, turning her head to face Ollie and offering a tight smile as she flicked her eyes past him. She liked Ollie and wondered if he might become another friend, him and his boyfriend Tom who she liked a lot as well. That would make seven friends. A year ago she only had Charlie. Thinking about friends rather than her case gave her a moment’s respite. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Okay, good,” said Ollie, grateful that her acceptance had been given so quickly. “My brother’s firm are going to make sure that Elaine Gough is known as the main system architect, creating a picture of you as someone who couldn’t get the job done. They are representing most of the other defendants and they’ll make sure that’s the picture they get. It will mean they won’t have an interest in you. Plus, you’ll be charged as Tracye Hayes which is an identity that will disappear afterwards.” Meg felt something inside her loosen as she realised Ollie was going to be good at his job.

“Thank you,” she repeated, reaching her hand out to Ollie. Surprised, he took it and held on. She was such an unusual person and he wondered if her atypicality would help or hinder her in court. But he found her interesting and likeable so maybe others would as well.

“Right, let’s get started,” he suggested. “Do you want Callum and Ben to stay?”

“No, it’s fine, they can go … but after lunch …,” said Meg, getting up and adding anxiously, “if they want lunch … I’ve made lunch.” This was a first and Callum and Ben were intrigued. She brought out prepared trays from her kitchen and set up a table picnic. They recognised the format - heaping a selection of food onto the table was very common at their house. It was very touching that Meg had given it so much thought and gone to such a lot of effort.

“This looks amazing Meg,” enthused Ben, dragging his chair to the dining table and plopping himself down, hungrily surveying the spread. Callum and Ollie were right behind him, their pleasure giving Meg a welcome boost. She wished she could love eating as much as they all did. It was a cheerful lunch, with much teasing and chat about their holiday. Meg had never ever entertained in her home and was pleased that it was a clear success. The familiar clamp around her chest loosened a little bit more.

Helping her clear away, Callum took a moment to check on her.

“How’re you doin’ Meg darlin’, y’know after the house an’ now the police charge that’s coming?” He was concerned about her. She was standing by his side and he felt her lean against him.

“I don’t know. I just don’t know. But something’s happenin’ which is better than nothing happenin’.” Her head rested against his arm preventing him from putting it around her but he could sense she was comforted. “I’m glad you’re helpin’ me. Ben and Ollie as well. I can’t be on my own any more. I just can’t.” Even saying it helped her breathe more easily. Callum turned to give her one of his wonderful hugs.

“You’ve got us and we’ve got you,” he said softly. His mum had exploited Meg; she’d put her in an impossible position and taken advantage of both her disadvantaged background and her nature. It was now the time to right those wrongs.

+++

“Are you asking Lily and Kaff?” Kojo had just been presented with a leaflet for a mixed martial arts and self-defence class that Lexi had found. Lexi shook her head.

“Their lives are not like our lives.” She looked at him earnestly. “You know why I need to do this, Ko,” she said, her voice low and full of intent. “Lil and Kaff will think it’s fun. It’s not fun. It’s serious. I need to learn something not have a laugh. But … please come with me.”

“Course. No question,” Kojo assured her. “It’s just …” He didn’t know how to tell her that he couldn’t afford it and there was no way his gran was going to pay for it. “What have your dads said?”

“That I can go.” Callum and Ben had picked up on Lexi’s determination and had decided to be as supportive as possible. They had never managed to escape the criminal world with its associated violence so they wondered if maybe Lexi was right about it being part of her reality. Although they were fully resolved to keep her as far away from it as they could, they couldn’t guarantee it would never sneak up on her so if she wanted to learn how to defend herself then they were behind her.

Kojo and Lexi were on their way to Ollie’s and Tom’s as Kojo was staying there for a week while his gran was visiting her cousin. It had become a routine for the four of them to study together every Wednesday at one of their houses straight after school and then hang out together for the evening, so Kaffi and Lily were with them, walking slightly behind them and watching them.

“They got close on their holiday,” observed Kaffi.

“What like …?” Lily looked at him, curious about what he thought had gone on.

“I reckon Ko would love that but no,” said Kaffi. He had quizzed Kojo extensively on the subject of Lexi and, although Kojo had given little away, this was his conclusion. “It’s like they know each other inside out. They’re best friends and there’s no way he’s going to risk losing that so he’s not gonna make a move on our beautiful Lexi.” Lily understood what he was saying. The four of them were still inseparable but Kojo and Lexi had something extra. It didn’t irk Lily - she liked to see it – but things had changed. Then again, they always did, she reflected. Kaffi was similarly pragmatic. As long as they were all friends, the lover in him longed for Kojo and Lexi to get together, but he completely understood why Kojo was holding back. What he didn’t understand was how Lexi was so oblivious and, letting his mind cartwheel forward, he foresaw issues for them when she picked up on Kojo’s not so platonic devotion - that or a beautiful relationship. Always the optimist, he hoped for the latter.

Ollie and Tom were enjoying having Kojo to stay. He was good company and, at home, seemed somehow younger than his fifteen years which was giving them a flavour of parenting. This was the only evening his friends were coming round and they were interested to see how it went. It was all new to them. The four youngsters were disciplined; the first thing they did was set themselves up at the table to study. Then there was a bit of chat and a lot of concentration. Ollie and Tom had a whispered conversation in the kitchen about it not being what they had expected.

“It is VERY unlikely that our child, if we ever have one, will be this easy,” commented Ollie. Tom agreed. They wanted to share their life with a child with a background of trauma, like Kojo, but Kojo had benefitted from the stable home and love offered by his grandmother and they knew many children had not had such advantages. They were much more likely to have a child with significant stress and behaviours arising from that. It would not be easy; it would be difficult. They were determined to go ahead with their plan but wanted to walk in with their eyes wide open.

As they ate dinner, all six of them together, Kaffi chatted animatedly about an upcoming school theatre trip to see a West End show, _Everybody’s talking about Jamie,_ about a boy who aspired to be a drag queen. Lexi had seen it already with Ben but was very keen to go again.

“It’s brilliant. Dad just loved it. We laughed so much our sides hurt,” she told them. “We should definitely all sign up. It’ll be fun to go up to town together.” The conversation moved onto their favourite places to visit in the centre of town. Lexi had been on countless days out and loved theatre most of all, especially musicals, something she clearly shared with Ben. Lily loved shopping and hanging out in popular spots to people-watch. Kaffi loved the same things as Lily and Lexi but above all he liked museums with the V&A, with its vastness and its special exhibitions of famous designers, being a particular favourite. Ollie and Tom noticed that Kojo was happy and comfortable, laughing and smiling at his friends’ enthusiasm but had nothing to add of his own. When everybody left later on, they returned to the subject.

“You haven’t been into town much then?” Ollie asked. Kojo shook his head.

“We’re going to go up more, me, Kaff, Lils and Lexi,” he said, with a big smile and bright eyes showing his excitement for a moment before uncertainty stole its way onto his face. “But … everything costs money … so I need a job.” This was a useful entry into something he’d wanted to discuss with Ollie and Tom. “Kaffi, Lily and Lexi all get allowances from their parents so they’ve got money but I need to earn some money. It’s just I’m too young yet for most jobs. I’ve done some asking around, y’ see.” He watched their reactions hoping, firstly, they would think it was a good idea for him to get a job and, secondly, they would be able to give him some advice about how to get one. This was a useful entry into something Ollie and Tom wanted to discuss with him.

“Kojo, first of all, we’re going to give you an allowance,” said Ollie, seeing Kojo immediately cringe with embarrassment. “No, mate, don’t refuse. It’s part of the deal of being your support network.” He and Kojo regarded at each other stubbornly, with Kojo eventually yielding.

“Okay, thanks,” he muttered a little ungraciously. He really wanted to earn his money not be given it.

“And we’re going to give you a job,” said Tom. Ollie hid his surprise - they had discussed the allowance but they hadn’t discussed this. “I’m rubbish at my admin,” confessed Tom. “I scribble things on bits of paper, don’t keep proper records, my calendar’s a mess – I’m forever mixing up lesson times – and I have no idea who’s paid and who hasn’t.” This was true, thought Ollie, recalling a conversation where he’d come across Tom’s carrier bag containing his scraps of paper causing him to urge Tom to sort out his paperwork and appoint an accountant. “I reckon you’d be decent at that sort of stuff,” Tom carried on. “That way you can earn your allowance.” Kojo sat up straight.

“Yeah, I can organise your records,” he said, thinking that it all sounded quite easy.

“Just one thing,” interjected Ollie sternly. “It must never become a priority over schoolwork. If you’ve got a project deadline or you need time to revise for exams, then Tom can do his own paperwork.”

“And during those times,” added Tom, not at all bothered by Ollie’s bossiness, “your allowance will continue. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

Kojo jumped up and gave them both a hug.

“Take it, thank you,” he grinned. “You two are the best, y’ know.” He meant it. The Mitchell-Highways were wonderful friends but Ollie and Tom felt like family. Kojo’s own dad had never had a conversation with him, never made a meal for him, never shown any interest in him. But Ollie and Tom were the other end of the spectrum of engaged parenting. They’d made a big deal of his birthday the previous week, hosting a small gathering and making a suitable fuss of his gran. Kojo had always celebrated his birthday with just him and his gran so it was important to him that she was at the centre of things. He hadn’t even needed to explain this to Ollie and Tom; they just knew. They had invited the Mitchell-Highways, the Kulogowskis, Kaffi’s family and Ollie’s parents, all of whom loved a party so it had been a lively occasion. Ollie’s dad George had been interested in Kojo and they’d had a good conversation about his ambition to be a lawyer. It was important to have mentors for support and guidance, George had said as he promised to fulfil such a role. Kojo was honoured by the offer. He thought back to the walk home with his gran that evening.

“You’re lucky, Kojo, my boy. These are good people you have around you,” she’d said, tucking her hand inside his arm. It was unusual; she was never physically affectionate. When they’d arrived home, he’d opened the front door and followed her in, giving her a quick squeeze and dropping a kiss on her forehead as he said good night. It had only been a few days later that she’d left on her trip to visit her cousin, but in those days it had become their routine for him to give her a hug and a kiss as he said goodnight. Kojo could tell his gran was very happy with the new way.

Sitting in his bed at Ollie’s and Tom’s, he looked at the leaflet Lexi had given him. Now he knew he was going to be earning some money, he was happy to spend his birthday money on this programme. He knew he would enjoy it and would be good at it; he was less sure of Lexi and it suddenly crossed his mind that it might frustrate her and he might end up as the target of her irritation. He needed to figure out the best way of handling her anger. When she got into a bad mood, she had a habit of hitting out at whoever was nearest, often him. She usually took some time to sulk and then came back as if nothing had happened but maybe he should call her out on it. He decided to give it some more thought.

+++

Kojo’s deliberations were to be quickly tested. Their first session was physically hard. He found it tough and, out of the corner of his eye, he watched Lexi find it extremely tough. As they left, she swayed slightly, clearly a bit wobbly on her feet, and Kojo put a steadying hand under her elbow. It was firmly rejected.

“Get off me!” snapped Lexi. “I can walk!” Kojo let go immediately and Lexi reeled again and fell over. “You pushed me over, you idiot,” she complained, giving him a fierce look that dared him to help her up as she scrambled to her feet, only to lose her balance again. From the floor, she shot a filthy look at Kojo as she thrust out a hand for him to pull her up. He stared at it coolly. “You’re not gonna help me up?” she asked, suddenly uncertain.

“Yeah, course,” he sighed, pulling her up and letting go of her hand as soon as she was upright. Then he span on his heels and walked away.

“Kojo? What?” whined Lexi, following him along the pavement. “Kojo, stop.” Kojo stopped and turned to face her.

“You must have known it was going to be hard. I didn’t make it harder. Actually, I’m always there for you, Lex, to make things easier. That’s why I’m here doing this club with you. So why shout at me?” The words came easily, bolstered along by their truth.

“It’s just me. It’s what I’m like. I get cross with myself,” explained Lexi, hearing it for the poor excuse it was.

“No! You get cross with ME,” protested Kojo.

“Because I’m cross with myself,” she persisted.

“How does that make it okay?” he asked, flummoxed by her reasoning. They glared at each other, sustaining eye contact in a way that they had never done before, throwing down a gauntlet to discover if they could respect each other even in disagreement. Lexi could see that Kojo wanted a resolution but didn’t want to have to give up the point he was trying to make. Kojo could see Lexi was confused and worried and, like him, wanted to get over this.

“I just thought, like, you know what I’m like and, with you, it’s okay to be like that.” Lexi’s face silently pleaded with him to understand. She had to think about her behaviour almost all the time to keep a lid on her temper and a zip on her big mouth but not with Kojo because he knew her and liked her despite her flaws.

“It is,” conceded Kojo, recognising that she was speaking of their closeness. It was one of his greatest treasures and he wanted to protect it. “You’re you Lex. Honest, funny, passionate about stuff, carin’ and loyal … and grumpy and shouty.”

“Dad says I’m a brat,” admitted Lexi, looking at him with a hopeful face, wanting to be forgiven.

“Which one?” asked Kojo.

“Callum,” replied Lexi. “Ben’s as big a brat as me.” Although he knew the level of Ben’s brattishness did not come anywhere close to Lexi’s, Kojo had seen this dynamic in action and it occurred to him that he could take some lessons from Callum.

“So what does Callum do when Ben’s being like that?” he questioned.

“Oh god, you know what they’re like. He hugs him and kisses him, makes fun of him a bit … … oh my god, you’re thinking maybe you could do the same for me.” Lexi giggled at the idea.

“Would it work?” smirked Kojo, meaning it as a joke so surprised when Lexi took him seriously.

“It’s probably better than me shoutin’ at you and then sulking,” she answered thoughtfully. Kojo decided not to overthink it and stepped forward to give her a big hug. It disconcerted Lexi at first but it WAS comforting.

“You ready to be nice now, Moody-Moo?” asked Kojo, talking into her ear. She nodded.

“Thanks, Ko,” she said as he released her. He held up his fist and she tapped it with hers.

+++

Jackie was enjoying looking through photographs of the holiday in France. Callum sat opposite her, watching her and wondering if she had any idea that the hard lines of her face had changed completely and her affection for her family was shown clearly. He had no intention of telling her as he was sure she would throw down the photos and resume her usual hardened visage.

“She’s a late bloomer, Lexi,” commented Jackie. Callum laughed and she looked at him curiously.

“I used that phrase and Ben said I sounded like an old aunty,” he explained. “Actually she’s changed in the month we’ve been back. She’s grown almost an inch and her shape’s changing.”

“How does all that work then with two dads?” asked Jackie. “Who’s gonna tell ‘er about women’s things?”

“Ben and me know about women’s things and we talk to her,” said Callum, smiling at his mum who looked very unconvinced. “She has got her mum, y’ know. Talks to her every week. And Kathy and Louise and Whitney. She has women in her life.” Jackie nodded her approval.

“Talkin’ of Whitney. Christmas baby, Stuart said. Bobby.” Jackie looked proud as punch.

“Yeah, it’s great news, isn’t it?” said Callum, equally pleased.

“They done me a copy of the scan photo,” bragged Jackie and Callum smiled widely at her pride. For a brief moment, Jackie mirrored his smile then she remembered she was queen of the underworld and her body language returned to ordinary service.

“Thank you mum,” said Callum, seeing the shift and seizing the opportunity to talk about more difficult topics, “for protecting Meg.”

“She alright then?” Jackie knew that Meg was still in hiding and had been wondering if Callum was going to provide an explanation.

“Hmm, not really. Your help was good for getting the criminals off her back but the police are still gonna charge her.”

“Then all those who we got to think it was all Iren are gonna know it was Meg, or Tracye as they know her. They’re gonna know they’ve been had.” Jackie felt frustrated and more than a little concerned about what this meant for her. It would look like she disrespected her fellow criminals. Callum and Ben had discussed this and had wondered if this would concern her.

“Not so much, mum. We’ve got it looking like Iren took over from Meg early in the game. Meg will be charged under her birth name but afterwards will resume living as Meg Smith. Then anybody lookin’ won’t be able to find Tracye Hayes. An’ if anyone finds out, I’ll know it’s you who’s let the cat out the bag.” The unspoken threat that he would cut his connection with her if this happened was understood.

“If she gets off,” muttered Jackie.

“She won’t get off,” advised Callum. “She’s going to plead guilty. Ollie is representing her and he’s confident she’ll get a suspended sentence.” Jackie rested a gnarled finger on a photo of Ollie.

“The lawyer Hargreaves?” she checked. Callum nodded. They both knew which firm was the criminals’ law firm of choice.

“Not with the firm any more,” he clarified. “Him and his dad left and have set up on their own. His brother is still there though.” He knew that Jackie would understand the difference.

“So they’ll be charging Iren as well then? They know who she is?” Jackie had a growing sense that her empire was about to crumble. No Meg and no Iren meant no system which meant no business. There was no way she could find a replacement quickly. Iren had been a godsend, turning up just when they needed somebody. They were never going to get that lucky a second time.

“The question is … do YOU know who she is?” said Callum cryptically, leaning back in his chair. Jackie narrowed her eyes. What was he saying? She was about to find out. “So, mum, her real name is Elaine Gough. Daughter of Anne-Marie Gough, formerly Anne-Marie Maguire.” If Jackie had been in a cartoon, her eyes would have popped out of her head on springs and there would have been steam coming out of her ears. Fury stole her tongue for a few minutes before she recovered her capacity to speak.

“She was planning to take it all?” she hissed, apoplectic. “Fuckin’ Anne-Marie? She planned this? She thought she could take the lot?” Her disbelief and anger were palpable. “Wait a minute – what are you sayin’? Iren’s not even a fuckin’ Ruski?” The mixture of anger and astonishment on her face almost made Callum laugh until, abruptly, she deflated. “Debs’ll be goin’ down ‘n all, won’t she?” Callum nodded and, thinking that this thought might have upset her, he was very taken aback when she sat up straight and grinned at him. “I ‘ad a good run,” she boasted. “Nobody can say I didn’t ‘ave a good run. You proud of yer old mum?”

“For fifty years of criminal badness? Er, no!” said Callum, appalled at the thought.

“No, fer givin’ it up,” crowed Jackie. Callum thought about pointing out that, technically, she had given up nothing, it had been taken from her, but, really, what was the point?

+++

Even if DI Peacock and DS Akhtar had not been to visit her, Betty would have been able to see that something was going down. Cars she’d never seen before, unfamiliar passers-by – could they have been any more obvious? It had been going on for days but yesterday everything was back to normal. That meant something was going to happen today so Betty was up nice and early, determined not to miss the action.

Across the road, Anthony and Elaine were still in bed. Neither of them were early risers.

Down the road, DI Amanda Peacock and her team were ready. She gave the order to go and closed her eyes briefly as she listened to the shuffle of police boots moving quickly towards number one hundred and fifty six. Next came the thump of the enforcer being used, followed by multiple shouts identifying the entrants as police and Amanda felt her heart in her throat. There was always a risk with armed police and armed criminals that there would be casualties but it had never happened under her control and she did not want today to be the first time.

Adam was next to her and could feel her tension. They were waiting for the call to follow on and it felt like it was taking longer than expected but Adam had been here before – it always felt longer than it was.

“Alright, gov?” he checked. Amanda didn’t turn to look at him merely nodding sharply. Adam looked at the tech team behind them waiting quietly to go in and secure the computers and felt a frisson of excitement that this was going to be a huge breakthrough for the Organised Crime Unit. He had recently passed his assessment for Inspector and was hoping he would be kept on in the ROCU when Amanda retired. He wanted to see this case through.

Amanda’s radio broke the silence as it crackled into life and she glanced at Adam before signalling for the team to move in.

When they moved into the house, Anthony and Elaine were sitting in the kitchen, handcuffed and supervised by a police woman with a big gun. Amanda had been through Anthony’s sheet (making her wonder why he had never been to prison) but his unrecorded abuse of Callum was at the forefront of her mind as she looked at him. He was still young, not yet forty, but he looked wrecked giving him the appearance of somebody much older. Her anger rose at the thought of him hurting Callum.

“Anthony Garvey?” she said coldly. He looked up at her, giving her his best impression of being bored. She responded by reading him his rights, listing his litany of offences in her best bored tone. Two could play at that game. When she reached the last offence, she took a breath and added that he was to be charged with the rape of Callum Highway. Anthony’s head snapped up at that. An officer hauled him to his feet and took him out through the front of the house.

Throughout it all, Elaine focused on the floor. She didn’t move as Amanda took the seat vacated by Anthony; in fact she didn’t acknowledge her at all. Amanda sat for a moment watching her.

“Elaine Gough?” she said eventually, taking great satisfaction at seeing the young woman freeze. “That is your actual name, yes?” Elaine didn’t respond. Amanda didn’t care and recited the familiar caution after arresting her. Elaine stood of her own accord and was visibly irritated by the police officer who physically manhandled her down the hallway and out of the front door. Elaine was clean, as herself or any of her aliases; she had never even been brought in for questioning. Amanda could not wait to get her in the interview room.

Betty watched from her living room, seeing Anthony and Elaine brought out of the house, followed by box after box after box of computers. Now the house would be sold and a nice family with children would buy it, she thought hopefully. The road had been cordoned off, presumably just for the duration of the raid, and a little crowd had gathered at the tape. Betty watched as a woman joined the crowd, watched for a moment or two and left. She recognised her as Jackie’s associate, sifted swiftly through her photo box and quickly darted out of her house. A young police constable intercepted her but she wasn’t to be foiled.

“DI Peacock,” she yelled loudly, causing the young man beside her to jump. Amanda heard her and walked across to her, Adam following in her wake.

“Betty,” she said. “Can I help you with something?”

“Other way round,” said Betty, shooting the young constable a triumphant scowl. He didn’t care; sensing that this might be important, he was intrigued by what she might say.

“Don’t know ‘er name but reckon you will,” she said, offering the photo to Amanda who recognised Debs Tomsett. “Jackie’s girl. Been around ‘ere for a good ten years. She came fer a gander and left that way, ooh, around three minutes ago.” Adam had seen the photo over Amanda’s shoulder and immediately called for support and set off up the road.

He arrived back quarter of an hour later shaking his head.

“Disappeared into thin air, gov,” he informed Amanda.

+++

Debs knew she couldn’t hang around the Canning Town house. There had been no warning that the police were onto that house so turning up today and seeing coppers swarming all over it had been a shock causing her to wonder why her police contacts hadn’t given her a heads up. What was the point of paying all that money to have coppers in your pocket? she asked herself grumpily. She saw Anthony and Iren being pushed into police cars and knew that the steady stream of evidence boxes leaving the house meant the computers had been seized. Was it possible that Iren had got them set to self-destruct? she wondered; or was that something that only happened in films? She’d been in the game long enough to know this was catastrophic.

Even though she’d only been there momentarily, the police had made her – how, just how? she asked herself – and she was grateful that she’d been brought up in Canning Town and knew every ginnel and shortcut so had been able to lose them easily. Making her way to the estate flat, she debated with herself about the safest place to lay low. The flat hadn’t been used much since Jackie, Joan and Brenda had been in prison so it was probably the best bet. Debs had a lovely little house slightly further out where there were more trees and less cars but, seeing as the police seemed to know more about her than she had thought, she decided they might know about it so headed for the long empty flat.

Letting herself in, she closed the door and allowed herself to breathe. It was dark and silent and slightly musty smelling. She just needed to sit down for a moment and regroup so she walked into the darkened living room with its permanently closed curtains. As she entered, the door closed behind her and she swung round to look directly into a pair of Highway eyes. A pair of cold and angry Highway eyes.

“Callum,” she squealed, almost too shocked to speak.

“And Ben,” said a voice behind her. She span round again to see Ben sitting imperiously in the chair Jackie had always occupied. To her horror, she saw that both he and Callum were wearing plastic coveralls. This was not going to be good.

“Okay, Debs, take a seat,” ordered Callum, pushing her gently forward and relieving her of her bag and her coat. She slumped into her usual seat and closed her eyes.

“How did you know I was coming ‘ere? I never come ‘ere.” They were a fucking pain in the arse, these two, she decided; how the hell did they know where to find her?

“You do know we’re private investigators?” asked Ben rhetorically. “And we’re pretty good at what we do.” They’d found her usual home, broken in and put trackers in every coat they could find. The weather was getting colder after all and she was bound to wear one of them. Ben had been to this flat before and, when she had started to make her way towards it, he knew where she was headed and he and Callum were able to arrive first.

“Okay clever clogs. So we’re ‘ere. What d’ya want?” There was fight in her words but her body language was singing a different tune.

“Well, there’s a few things,” started Callum, his dark eyes flashing dangerously giving her a warning not to mess them around. “Let’s start with the big one. You set me and Ben up for Noah’s murder. Care to explain?” Debs stared at him. He was sitting in between her and the door, he was fit and strong and, worst of all, he had a threatening look on his face. There was no escape and she recognised that look – he was the image of his mum. Unexpectedly, latex-clad fingers gently brushed her arm.

“Looks a bit annoyed, don’t he?” murmured Ben. Debs peered at him and saw cold eyes looking back. “Me too, eh?” he carried on. “But I bet you’re not that worried on account of me and Callum being law-abidin’ an’ all. Thing is, my dad’s annoyed as well. He’s not so bothered about bein’ law-abidin’. An’ … well … maybe we’re not all that bothered.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“So,” hissed Callum. “D’ya care to explain?” Debs leaned back in the armchair.

“Open the fuckin’ curtains,” she snapped. Ben jumped up and obliged; he was fed up with the dark anyway.

“Better for you?” he checked sardonically. Debs turned her face and pulled back the drape of hair that usually curved round her cheek. A messy scar sat high on her cheekbone.

“You did that,” she accused Callum. “Underneath there’s a smashed cheekbone. Lost my back teef an’ all.”

“As I recall, you were preparin’ to attack me and Ben,” replied Callum dispassionately. “So if you think I give a shit about your smashed in face, you’d be very wrong.”

“We roughed you up so you framed us for murder? Bit over the top,” commented Ben.

“I ain’t gonna explain meself to you,” asserted Debs adamantly, although her main reason was that she COULDN’T explain it. Her reason for setting them up was to remove them from Jackie’s life. Why she thought it might have worked completely escaped her now. It had been a crazy idea. She’d let her need for revenge cloud her judgement and she had made monumental errors.

“What d’ya think Callum? Get Chris in to beat it out of her or get some satisfaction and do it ourselves?” Ben knew that Debs was aware that Phil’s former right hand man was still around. Chris was a complete thug and there wouldn’t be much left of her if he got involved. She would definitely be scared of him. But Ben and Callum were here to make sure that she was very scared of THEM.

“We’ll do it,” stated Callum, picking up his cue. He reached for his holdall and got out plastic sheeting and started to prepare the room. Debs barked out a laugh.

“Ya fink yer convincin’? Yer not convincin’ no one.” She’d been through this rigmarole herself in order to terrify someone and was trying hard to believe that there was no way they were going to hurt her.

Ben put a chair in the centre of the sheet and gestured for Debs to sit on it. When she scowled a refusal at him, he yanked her up and threw her at the chair with Callum catching her and forcing her arms back, securing them with cable ties while Ben did the same to her legs. She yelped in pain.

“You wanted us to be sent down,” growled Callum. “What did you think would happen to our children?” Debs looked at him blankly. “With us in prison, what did you think would happen to our kids?” he repeated. His face was close to hers and his voice was low and full of venom. She closed her eyes and tried to blot him out, and was horrified to feel plastic film pulled tight across her face. “Answer the fuckin’ question. What did you think would happen to our kids?” Trying to will herself to accept the suffocation – she was sick of life anyway – she tried to blank out everything but her body and its instinct to survive betrayed her as she started to panic. The film was released and she clamoured for air. The process was repeated four more times before she gave in. They weren’t going to kill her; they were going to continue with this … or something else – they didn’t need plastic coveralls if all they were going to do was smother her.

“I don’t give a fuck about your kids. They’ve got a nan and a step-nan, an uncle, aunties. It’s not like they’d end up in care.” Debs was frightened but she was not going to give them the satisfaction of seeing her scared.

“This is our problem see,” explained Ben. “Our kids have had difficult lives already and they carry that with them. To lose me and Callum would be DEVASTATING. It would affect them in ways you haven’t bothered to imagine.”

“Ya fink I don’t know about ‘ardship? I know more’n yer’ll ever know.”

“You have no fuckin’ idea what we’ve been through,” spat Ben.

“Actually she does.” Callum’s voice became quiet, almost thoughtful. “She knows. Which makes this so much worse.” He walked in front of her, staring at her malevolently. All of a sudden, he pushed the chair over. Debs howled as her weight bore down on her arms through the back of the chair.

“Yer’ve broke me fuckin’ arms,” she wailed. Ben pulled a gag round her mouth.

“Shut the fuck up,” he snarled. “Now we need you to understand that if you EVER do anything to affect our happy life, we will find you and we will make you suffer. We know you’re goin’ down, but we have people on our side who will be watchin’ you inside. We’re not gonna threaten your family ‘cause we’re not like that … except for your daughters. They’re fair game we reckon. We know they scared Meg, told her they were goin’ to rip her nose in two. What sickos would even think of that? So, yeah, if we’re gonna hurt anyone, it’ll be them.”

Debs retched violently. The pain in her arms was excruciating. But the gag stopped her vomit and she started to choke as the acrid liquid returned to her throat. Ben rolled his eyes as he ripped off the gag and, lifting the chair, thumped her back to clear her insides. Callum was prowling backwards and forwards; Ben could feel his energy – he wanted to hurt her and he was having to muster every ounce of self-control to stop himself. He knew that Callum hated that he had this side to his character - there would be a heavy price to pay for what they were doing today. It would send Callum backwards, there would be panic attacks and self-castigation, but Debs had to be stopped. He himself did not feel remorse for what they were doing and, realising this, he sadly recognised the Mitchell in him.

“Yer’ve made yer point, boys,” croaked Debs. Callum’s mood was scaring her and she needed to bring this to a conclusion before she ended up with her own nose ripped in two. “I wanted ya out of Jackie’s life. Yer’ve distracted ‘er. It ain’t good fer business. Stupid bitch is proud o’ yer, impressed with ya.”

“You’re jealous?” exclaimed Callum incredulously. “All this ‘cause you’re jealous?”

“Yeah and what of it?” shouted Debs, abandoning all self-control. “We were NEVER about fuckin’ men. What the fuck are men good fer? Jackie was mine. MINE! Like a mum with me to my girls, our girls. We brought ‘em up togever.” She looked furiously at Ben. “And then YOU, a fuckin’ Mitchell no less, swaggered in with yer sass and yer devotion to ‘er boy an’ it all changed. You two ruined EVERYTHING.”

So that was it. She loved Jackie and believed they’d taken her away.

“Fuck, Debs,” said Ben, whistling softly. “So you’ve got us to worry about, my dad to worry about and, from what you say, Jackie as well. You have ballsed this up spectacularly!”

“So put me out of me fuckin’ misery,” she muttered.

“Oh no, I don’t think so. There’s much more fun to be had letting you go,” said Ben, putting the film in their holdall and pulling out a cloth and a bottle of water to wipe Debs down; it was important not to leave a trace of him and Callum behind. “You can keep the sheet,” he said magnaminously. “And we’re gonna leave you tied up. But we’ll get a message to someone - we’re not monsters.”

They took their coveralls off at the door and shoved them in the holdall before exiting the flat. Ben seized Callum’s hand firmly.

“You okay?”

“Fuck, no,” sighed Callum, looking at his beloved husband with pained eyes. “I am a monster.”

“Old you would’ve beaten her to a pulp. She threatened our kids’ happiness and she would’ve deserved it. But you held it in today,” reassured Ben, wanting Callum to see that he could be the person he wanted to be. He suspected, however, that Phil was determined to deal with Debs and that, when she came face-to-face with Chris, she would not survive the encounter. Debs would disappear without a trace.

+++

Ben’s fears came to pass. Chris had a friend at an incineration plant and she was already dust. Callum and Ben knew nothing of this. They handed over all of their intelligence and directed Amanda’s team to the estate flat and Debs’ house. It was a surprise to them that Debs was not where they’d left her, strengthening Ben’s feeling that his dad had got involved.

Debs’ house yielded very little and the police were now congregated at the estate flat after forensics had been and gone.

“There’s nothing here,” said Adam. “Bed linen’s unused. No food or drink in the kitchen.”

“Has somebody cleaned it down?” asked Amanda.

“No trace of cleaning fluid. No blood or other bodily fluid. The only thing that is off is the lack of dust but maybe that’s not so odd. Dust comes from people and if nobody’s been here …”

The Major Incident Team were also on site.

“Ben did say he came here more than three years ago,” offered DS Joe Munday. “Maybe they stopped using it.”

“Do we think they offed her?” asked DI Linda Bird.

“No!” exclaimed the other three in unison. The woman was like a broken record.

“It’s likely that she’s done a runner,” said Joe. “There was no suitcase at her house and there were gaps in the wardrobe and the drawers. Toiletries missing from the bathroom. No phone, no laptop, no charging cables. Everything you might take if you were leaving was gone.” Phil’s man, Chris, was expert in making it look like his victims had run away and his efforts had effectively duped the police.

“Right,” decided Amanda, instructing Adam. “Check trains, buses, planes. You know the drill.”

Detective Constable Holly Lakewell positioned herself so that she could overhear this conversation. She was supposed to let Debs know if the police were onto her but she’d had no luck in contacting her. Something was wrong about all of this. If Debs had heard about the police from somebody else then she would have rung Holly and torn a strip off her. But there had been no contact from Debs or that fierce Russian woman (who also liked to call Holly and threaten her). Holly was feeling out of both the criminal and the police loops.

“Holly, what are you doing?” snapped Linda Bird, noticing that Holly was hanging around.

“Er, no, ma’am,” she blustered, answering a question that hadn’t been asked. All four of the senior officers were now looking at her, clearly perplexed.

“No …?” asked Linda. “No what?”

“I, er, sorry ma’am,” fumbled Holly, her face colouring a deep puce. “I, er, …”

“What are you even doing here?” asked Joe, knowing neither he nor Linda had instructed her to join them. The other officers looked even more curious.

“I thought I might be able to help, sir. I was a kid on this estate.” Holly hoped that this was going to fly and, for once, her luck held out as Joe nodded.

“Did you know who lived here in this flat?” he asked.

“No,” lied Holly. “No idea.” She couldn’t let on that Jackie and Debs had lived in the flat and that it had been like a second home to her when she was tiny and her mum was screaming at her dad next door. Joe smiled at her.

“Bit of a long shot, I guess,” he remarked. He looked at Linda. “Are we staying on this? Or leaving it to Organised Crime?”

“We’ll take it,” said Amanda, deciding for Linda as she saw her about to dither. She could feel it in her bones that Debs was long gone and didn’t want to stall the case by concentrating on a search for Debs. It was now time to start charging people and make them pay for their crimes.

+++

Ben sat across from Phil unsure of how he felt about what he was going to discuss with him.

“Debs is missing.” He watched his dad carefully looking for some kind of tell. There was nothing.

“Yeah?” Phil responded.

“Yeah,” affirmed Ben. “Just so you know, Callum and me paid her a visit. We were very clear that she should keep well away from us or anyone close to us. We HAD handled it. She got the message.”

Phil stared impassively at him giving nothing away. Ben wanted to be angry at him for organising the hit on Debs - he was sure that this was what had happened to her – but he wasn’t anywhere near appalled as he should be. What did that say about him? About Callum as well as he also thought this. Amanda always said that they straddled the good and the bad in the life. Maybe this was simply where they were on their road and, as long as they were not doing the bad, they were headed in the right direction.

He turned his attention back to his dad, determined not to let him get away with it.

“Six years left dad,” he said. “Six years not just of keeping your nose clean but six years to sort yourself out. When you come out, there can be no more of this shit.”

Phil said nothing.

But inside he was thinking maybe Ben was right and it was time to extricate himself.


	11. All that ends well

The trip into London to see _Everybody’s talking about Jamie_ coincided with Kaffi’s birthday. It was a Saturday matinee so the four friends decided they would go out for something to eat afterwards. They’d been for food together locally but going to a restaurant in town by themselves was another thing altogether.

“So I want to go for sushi. I love sushi,” Kaffi declared, determined to make the most of the day, “and especially Sticks ‘n’ Sushi but it’s expensive so mum has said she’ll pay. She’s booked the one in Soho.”

The show was every bit as much fun as Lexi promised and their spirits were high as they left the theatre. Wanting to show himself off as a person in the know about the best places to buy clothes, Kaffi insisted on doing some shopping first which suited Lexi who had grown three inches in three months and, although she was still skinny, her shape had changed and she was desperately in need of new clothes. Ben had always been her shopping partner and, although he was good, she decided that Kaffi and Lily were better. Kojo was no help but endured the experience with a willing smile.

“I’m a hundred and sixty centimetres now,” proclaimed Lexi proudly. Unfortunately for her, the other three were also growing taller by the day, so she was still the shortest by a significant margin.

“Is that tall enough to go on all the rides at Thorpe Park?” sniggered Kaffi. Lexi curled her lip at him whilst shaking her head dismissively. She didn’t care; she liked her new shape and height.

Soho was as busy as always, throngs of people filling the pavements and the streets, the Saturday evening energy fizzing in the air. The four of them were like baby owls, taking it all in through huge, staring eyes. The restaurant was in the heart of it all and all of the tables were full of groups laughing and talking, so, feeling quite grown up, they took their seats and grinned at each other. This was fun.

The restaurant was lively and their high spirits continued throughout the meal. Still laughing and talking and teasing, they wandered up to the station to get their train a couple of hours later.

It was busier than they had expected and they squashed themselves into a busy carriage. Lily and Kaffi found a couple of seats and held onto all of the shopping bags while Kojo and Lexi stood a couple of metres away. A couple of stops from their stop, Kojo felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he came face-to-face with his brother Arko. Lexi sensed his tension and grasped his hand.

“Nice!” drawled Arko, nodding at Lexi. “She your girl?”

“Friend,” said Kojo, then turned to Lexi. “This is my brother.” He looked straight in her eyes aiming for reassurance and saw it reflected. He loved the way that sometimes they were in each other’s heads and, grateful that this was one of the times, he held her hand a little tighter.

“Arko,” said Arko, introducing himself and eyeing Lexi like a hyena watching an impala. Lily and Kaffi watched nervously from their seats. Kaffi knew Arko and explained to Lily who he was.

“Where you been?” asked Arko.

“Up to town,” answered Kojo.

“Town, man, yeah?” remarked Arko, lifting his eyebrows.

“I have a job.” Kojo wasn’t sure why he felt the need to explain to Arko how he could afford a day out.

“Y’always had a job,” Arko reminded him, still focused on Lexi. She stood up straight refusing to be intimidated by somebody she knew to be a low-life. The train was slowing down as it approached the next station and Kojo noticed Arko moving, bringing him a flood of relief as he realised his brother was getting off the train. He glanced down at Lexi who still had hold of his hand and saw her eyes flashing a warning. Looking at her quizzically, he missed Arko’s move to seize him firmly and shove him through the door as it opened, severing his connection with Lexi. She saw him being manoeuvred along the platform by Arko; Kaffi and Lily saw the same thing and they all looked at each other alarmed. Then, as the door was closing, Lexi made a split second decision and got off the train.

Arko and Kojo were already about fifty metres ahead and Lexi set off after them, pulling out her phone and texting her dads.

_Help arko got ko im follow track now_

It took her a few minutes to push through the mass of travellers and catch up with the brothers. By the time she reached them, they were outside the station.

“Let go of him,” she shouted as she drew near. Arko turned and stopped abruptly as he saw Lexi giving Kojo a chance to break free.

“Lexi, no,” Kojo called, shaking his head and rushing towards her. But he was behind Arko who had already reached her. His brother turned and swung a fist upwards, hitting him hard in the stomach and Kojo, winded, crumpled to the floor. Concerned commuters immediately gathered round him, asking him if he was alright, intent on stopping him from leaving until they knew he was okay. Nobody paid any attention to Arko.

“It nice to meet ya, Lexi,” smarmed Arko, grabbing hold of her arm and marching her away. They were soon away from the station and the busy roads surrounding it. Arko propelled them quickly towards a deserted road, with Kojo now on his feet and in pursuit, as Lexi became aware of the knife that had appeared in Arko’s other hand.

“Kojo, knife,” she shouted. They had practised disarming somebody with a weapon at their class and she watched as Kojo executed the perfect move and the knife clattered to the floor. Arko’s shock caused him to release Lexi and she darted down, picked up the knife and threw it as hard as she could away from them all.

Arko laughed. He actually laughed. And then pulled a gun from the back of his trousers.

“A’right Lexi. What you got?” he smirked as he pointed the gun at Kojo. “You got skills like my li’l bro? I tinkin’ no so you …” His eyes widened as Lexi’s leg swung round and swiftly jabbed his arm. Kojo followed it with another disarming maneouvre and the gun was on the floor. Lexi kicked it away and there was a moment where all three of them watched it scud over the tarmac and hit the opposite kerb, then Arko shot forward to retrieve it. Kojo and Lexi were ready for him. Lexi tripped him up and as he hit the floor hard, Kojo was on him pulling his arms up behind his back.

“Put them down the drain,” instructed Kojo. Lexi quickly collected both weapons and shoved them through the grill at the edge of the road. Kojo pulled his brother’s arms up until he yelped. “NEVER do that again,” he shouted, trying to harness the rage he could feel rising; it scared him. “DO NOT even think about touching Lexi. Don’t look at her, talk to her. You leave her alone. You see me, you say hello, how are you, normal stuff, then you leave. You get me?”

“We bros, man,” complained Arko, not sure what to make of Kojo’s outburst. He was always so chill – what was this? Kojo ignored him and continued holding him down. He caught Lexi’s eyes, silently asking her if she had any ideas about what to do next. She got out her phone and showed it to him, displaying her tracking app, indicating that her dads were five minutes away. Kojo could have wept with relief and resolved to get himself on that app. His stomach still hurt and breathing was painful so he took a couple of minutes to regather himself.

“I am never gonna work for you Arko. Never. I need you to accept that.” Kojo’s words fell on deaf ears.

“I know where you be, bro,” threatened Arko, still fighting back despite the fact that his face was pushed into the dirty, wet road. “An’ I tink yer shorty will be near, easy to find, no?” Kojo pulled his arms again making him shriek with pain and then kneed him roughly in the back. Arko squirmed, kicking his legs, then howled as Lexi stamped on his ankles.

“Keep still!” she ordered, ignoring his howls.

“What you waitin’ fo’?” whined Arko. “We not stay here all night. You gonna let me go.”

“We’re waiting for my dads,” Lexi informed him. “You’ve met them before. They’re not going to be happy that you didn’t leave Kojo alone.”

“Dads? More ‘n one?” Understanding dawned on Arko. “The gays in the park,” he said resignedly. With perfect timing, Callum and Ben arrived, parking haphazardly and jumping swiftly out of the car. Lexi noticed Ben briefly hold Callum back as he looked like he was about to do some serious damage. She had never seen Callum look so furious and, in that moment, she realised he had a more dangerous temper than Ben. Callum took a breath and hauled Arko to his feet.

“Really?” he hissed in his face. “You really didn’t get the message the first time?”

“Got it now,” muttered Arko. He wasn’t lying. His life was complicated enough; he definitely didn’t need his brother’s girl’s gangster dads on his case. “I see Ko, I say hello, how are ya and leave. An’ I not look fer ‘im.” Callum threw him back on the floor in disgust. Arko scrambled backwards to gain some distance between them, his face betraying his fear.

“Arko,” said Ben calmly. “You will end up inside if you carry on with the drug dealing. It’s a bit of advice for free. Now fuck off.”

Arko stood up slowly, taking a few steps backwards, all the time watching Callum and Ben warily, then turned and slouched away.

Callum and Ben looked at Lexi and Kojo, shaking and holding onto each other.

“How did you get him down? Wasn’t he armed?” asked Ben.

“The self-defence class,” explained Lexi. “It helped.” The adrenaline was waning and she suddenly felt very tired and emotional.

“It helped that there were two of us,” added Kojo, his voice trembling. “His gun and his knife are down the drain.” Callum and Ben shared a worried look and they gathered the young pair into their arms. It was a release for them and they both sobbed freely.

“Okay, right, okay,” said Ben. “Let’s get home.” Lexi and Kojo got in the back of the car and reached for each other’s hands. Kojo shuffled into the middle seat and they held on to each other even tighter.

“We were a good team,” whispered Lexi, her face still full of tears as she looked up at Kojo, his face clearly displaying his distress. She pressed into his side.

“Yeah, get us,” he said, attempting levity but bursting into a fresh set of tears.

Callum was driving and Ben turned in his seat to look at their daughter and her friend. They had made some good decisions in a dangerous situation but he could see the shock was setting in. He was just about to suggest that Kojo rang his gran to say he would stay at their house when Kojo’s phone started to ring.

“I’m supposed to be staying at Kaffi’s tonight,” said Kojo looking at his phone and answering. “Hey Kaff,” he said, as brightly as he could manage. “Yeah, we’re fine. Lexi’s dads came to pick us up … …. they can drop me at yours or, if it’s okay, I’ll stay at theirs … … yeah, is she there?” He handed the phone to Ben. “Kaffi’s mum,” he explained.

“Hi Shani, it’s Ben here.” Ben’s voice was bright and calm. “Yeah, they got off the train with Kojo’s brother … … no, not in danger, just a bit of an argument … … we’ll hang onto him, no need to disturb you all this late … … yeah, we’ll talk to Akua in the morning.” He watched Kojo and Lexi as he was talking and could see that the experience had seriously shaken them.

“Guys,” he said soothingly, “we can talk it over in the morning. Let’s get some sleep first.”

+++

The following morning, Kojo and Lexi slept in and Callum and Ben let them. Ben went round to see Akua to explain what had happened. She was surprisingly circumspect.

“They good thinkers, those two,” she said. Ben nodded.

“They made the best decisions but they’ve had a huge adrenaline come-down and now they’re exhausted. We let them sleep in but we’ll get Kojo back to you this afternoon.”

“It’s a hard world,” Akua remarked sadly. Ben looked at her. She had recently been poorly and he thought it made her look older. She was old, though, he reminded himself. She was eighty at Christmas.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“I don’t know how to keep him safe,” she continued in a flat tone that spoke eloquently of her despair. “But it seem he might know some.” Ben could see the pinpricks of tears glistening in the corners of her eyes and moved to sit next to her, putting his arm around the proud lady.

“He’s a great kid. He’s got his head screwed on right and he’s smart,” he reassured her. “And we’re all looking out for him. We have our family on an app that tells us all where we all are.” He got out his phone to show Akua. “We added Kojo last night. He asked us to. We’ve also shared it with Ollie and Tom. See, here. You can see they’re at home, Kojo’s at our house, I’m here at your house.” Akua looked at it interestedly.

“I can’t do with them smartphones. No, don’t be trying to persuade me,” she said, stopping Ben in his tracks. “But is a good thing, that map.”

When he arrived home, Kojo and Lexi were up and being looked after by Callum who was making them sugary, vanilla flavoured French toast and hot chocolate. The comforting sweet smell soothed Ben as soon as he walked through the front door. He wrapped a hug around both children and then snuggled up to his husband’s back while he was cooking.

“Callum said you went round to gran’s,” said Kojo, his question implicit.

“Yeah, she’s okay,” reassured Ben, sensing Kojo’s anxiety. “Sad that it all happened but she knows there was nothing you could have done to stop it and she thinks you made some good decisions to keep safe. She liked the tracking app … not enough to get a smart phone herself, mind.” Ben watched Kojo’s worry flit back and forth across his face.

“She’s not angry?” Kojo checked.

“Not angry,” confirmed Ben. “It’s just – and Callum and me feel the same – lots of kids will never have to defend themselves, never see a gun, never be dragged off a train. We all wish it could be like that for you.”

“It is,” said Lexi, “almost all of the time. This was bad luck, a freak thing, and what we learned, me and Ko, was that we could handle ourselves.” She was tremendously proud of her own part in the evening recognising that, although she had been frightened, she had kept her head and played a useful part in overcoming Arko.

“Against one person who probably didn’t actually want to hurt us,” qualified Kojo.

“Alright,” pouted Lexi. “But I’m still quite proud of myself.” He smiled at her.

“You were amazing,” he said. “Really you were. You were great. I was glad I had you with me.” Callum and Ben turned round to see how Lexi had taken the praise and saw that she was looking very pleased with herself.

+++

Christmas was approaching and, coinciding with her retirement, Amanda was to be commended for her role in leading the investigation into the Gough family. Charges had been brought against Anthony, Elaine and her parents and brothers, the Gough accountants, Kings and seven other drug dealers, the three Jusufis and Meg. All except Meg were on remand. It was an enormous case.

Meg was pleading guilty and had been hoping for a quick trial but she was still waiting for a date. The stress of it was overwhelming almost all the time but her friends made sure she was always occupied and rarely alone. She was busy with MHI cases, had frequent visits from everybody, and had become all of the children’s first choice tutor when they were struggling with schoolwork (Lexi to Ben: “She doesn’t get all emotional about it like you and Dad”). Going out still made her nervous but, bit by bit, she was acclimatising to her life.

Callum, Ben, Ollie and Tom were all very pleased to be invited to the commendation. They met Steve and his and Amanda’s children in the bar.

“Looking great, chaps,” complimented Steve, looking particularly at Callum and Ben. Tom was definitely laid back in his style and Ollie always relied on his best work suit and his fine figure to do the job but Callum and Ben both loved to dress up to wow and were especially excited by the idea that they were guests at a police event. They were looking exceptionally handsome and accepted the compliment graciously.

Throughout the ceremony, however, they were conscious that they were the objects of quite a lot of attention. Officers turned around and some snuck sideways glances. There were no smiles.

“D’ya think it’s because of our records?” murmured Callum to Ben. “Maybe everyone knows who we are.”

“Hmm, don’t know,” whispered Ben, fidgeting and wishing he hadn’t dressed to impress. More understated might have been a better choice for this evening. “Might be that you’re just too fuckin’ good lookin’.” He smiled nervously not fooling Callum for a second. Steve was sitting on the other side of Callum and picked up on their unease. He didn’t understand why so many of the attendees were interested in them. Amanda hadn’t mentioned that inviting them would be controversial and he was sure she would have if it was.

It all became clear back at the bar when Manish, Joe, Adam and Richard joined their group.

“You three are the heroes of the day,” said Manish, smiling broadly at Callum, Ben and Ollie who looked back completely confused.

“Terri Wilcox was fired today,” explained Joe. “There was an investigation into her that started when Ollie filed the complaint about her treatment of Callum and Ben. Loads of complaints about bullying, homophobia and racism followed. She has appealed and appealed and it all ended today. She’s gone.”

“Not sure if that’s it,” said Ben uncertainly. “The looks we’ve been gettin’ aren’t exactly friendly.”

“People are curious,” said Richard. “They know Wilcox deserved what she got but you aren’t ordinary folk. Your parents …” Ben and Callum hung their heads. “Hey,” said Richard, getting them to look up again. “Hold your heads up. What do these fuckers know?”

“Absolutely,” said Amanda, joining the tail end of the conversation. “You are good people. What does anyone know who doesn’t know you? Ignore the nosey buggers. You are MY special guests at MY commendation. I want you here …” She paused and their little group fell silent waiting for her to continue, “…I want you here because you are my GREAT friends and you stand for what’s important and good and you have been a invaluable help in bringing in this case. Too many of this lot,” she swung an arm, indicating everybody else in the room, “were no help at all.” She hugged them both warmly. “I’ve got to work the room so I’m going to love you and leave you. But Richard’s right – hold your heads up.”

When Amanda and her family had moved away, the eight remaining men ordered more beers and found a table.

“Adam and I are sitting here with three gay couples,” observed Richard. “Let the gossiping begin.” They all laughed easily.

“Is there a lot of homophobia in the police?” asked Tom. The four police officers all nodded.

“But they do know it’s wrong now,” said Manish, “which is a step forward. Quite a few steps to go though.” He threw an arm around Joe and kissed his cheek. “Let’s see what they make of that,” he laughed, stroking the kissed cheek affectionately. Joe looked at him, eyes sparkling.

“So, DI Adam Akhtar,” said Richard, causing everybody to stop drinking and turn to Adam.

“DI? Congrats!” exclaimed Manish. Adam grinned. He hadn’t wanted to share his news on Amanda’s special day but it was out now. They all chinked glasses and bottles and offered their congratulations.

“Yeah, still with Organised Crime,” he explained. “We’re making sure all the evidence is watertight. Everything needs to be ready for trial. We need more on a handful of drug dealers and Debs is still missing. Nobody’s got anything to say about your mum Callum. They’re all sticking to the story that it was all Debs.”

“Yeah, not true,” refuted Callum. Adam shrugged his shoulders.

“We have to go with what we can prove. Happy for your help if you have anything.” He’d wanted to get this into the conversation as he was worried that Callum and Ben might disappear with Amanda. “I’m hoping you’ll stay connected with us. Charlie’s giving us two days a week …”

“What? You poached our staff?” teased Ben as Adam grinned.

“… so that’s a connection but I’m hoping all of you will work with us.”

“We all want that,” advised Richard. “We want to work with you when it fits the case. Are you up for that?”

Callum and Ben looked at each other. This was an easy one.

“Course,” confirmed Callum.

+++

Christmas came and went largely overtaken by babies. Bobby Highway was born a little later than expected on New Year’s Eve and Molly Mitchell (Louise had decided that her girls were taking her name) was born a whole month early ten days after Bobby.

Callum busied himself with cooking, delivering meals to the homes of both of the new babies on a daily basis until both homes told him that he should stop as they didn’t have any more space in their freezers.

“Maybe take up knitting,” suggested Ben cheekily.

“Oh hilarious,” sulked Callum.

Richard moved in with Louise. They were still together as a couple but the decision was made because Richard wanted to help with Molly and Louise knew that his help would be useful. Molly was an angelic baby, falling quickly into a feeding and sleeping routine so their family life ran very smoothly. Richard liked Louise a lot and wanted to be able to allow himself to love her (he knew he loved her) but his feeling was that she was holding him at arm’s length, unwilling to commit to their relationship, which, to be fair, was exactly what Louise was doing. But she wanted Molly to bond with her dad so she wanted him to be there. What she didn’t anticipate was that five year old Peggy would also bond with him. It was getting complicated.

Whitney and Stuart had been looking forward to being parents for a long time and had imagined an idyllic time of coos and cuddles. They were doing a lot of cuddling but they were having an extremely trying time. Whitney couldn’t get Bobby to latch on so breast-feeding was abandoned causing her lots of angst that she wasn’t doing the best thing for her baby. Bobby didn’t sleep more than half an hour at a time and all of them were suffering seriously with sleep deprivation. Added to all of this, he cried A LOT which reinforced Whitney’s idea that she wasn’t caring for him well enough. She became increasingly stressed, shouting at Stuart and insisting he returned to work and get out of her hair. Nobody was allowed to hold Bobby in case it set him off. Callum’s meals earned him a verbal beating leaving both Highway brothers unsure about how to act. Only Ben seemed to be able to connect to Whitney and, eventually, he was able to persuade her that she wouldn’t be able to function without sleep so Bobby came to stay at Callum’s and Ben’s house for a night. Whitney wanted to insist on a camera so she could check in but Ben disagreed.

“You’ll be up all night checking the camera. The point is that you get some sleep.” Reluctantly, Whitney agreed.

Bobby, of course, was a cherub for his uncles. The little chimp glugged down his milk, slept for two three hour stretches and hardly cried at all. Callum loved seeing Ben with Bobby in his arms. It brought out all of Ben’s softest qualities and he fell in love with him all over again.

“We can’t tell Whit that he’s been no problem,” advised Ben. “She’ll lose all her confidence.” Callum agreed.

Whitney turned up a little after the agreed time to collect her son.

“I’m so sorry,” she said a little frantically. “I didn’t wake up until half an hour ago.” Bobby was having a snooze in his basket and she went immediately to lift him out.

“He’s only just dropped off,” lied Callum. “Let me make you some breakfast.” Whitney heard the implicit suggestion to leave Bobby where he was and, although her fingers itched to get hold of him, she agreed to the meal. Everything was so calm and comfortable at Callum’s and Ben’s. It wasn’t quiet - how could it be with three children living there? - but it was easy to relax there and she desperately needed that. An hour later, Bobby was still snoozing.

“Right,” said Whitney sternly. “Don’t lie to me. He’s been good as gold for ya, hasn’t he?” Ben and Callum looked sheepish. “D’ya mind if we ‘ang out ‘ere today?” she asked. “I need to figure out what to do different, y’know?”

By the end of the day, Whitney had decided that she needed to check Bobby less often. She knew roughly how often his nappy needed changing so she didn’t to check it every half hour. There was a clear cry for milk so she decided to wait to hear it; she didn’t need to be thrusting a bottle at him every fifteen minutes. And he really wasn’t bothered by noise so she didn’t need to preserve complete silence around him. When Stuart arrived for dinner, she pulled him to one side.

“We’ve been fussing too much,” she said. Stuart nodded his agreement suppressing the urge to point out that he had been saying this all along.

Obviously it wasn’t all plain sailing after that, but Stuart and Whitney felt that they had turned a corner and started to enjoy Bobby more.

+++

Ollie and Tom had also put the wheels in motion to add to their family. Even though they had done their research first, the adoption process was longer and more complex than they had ever imagined. They had assumed they would be seen as good candidates but they quickly came up against doubters and steeled themselves for a difficult journey.

George’s and Ollie’s business was fast gaining a reputation as a successful defence firm. They stuck to their principles: some of their clients were in trouble with the law but none belonged to the world of organised crime. George was also inspired by his relationship with Kojo and had gone to the high school to offer to be a mentor for disadvantaged children, particularly those who had aspirations to be lawyers or police officers. The school had seized the opportunity and George found that he soon became close to his mentees, his wish to make a difference to them intensifying.

One day, Arko turned up to talk to them. He walked through the door taking Ollie by surprise. Arko for his part was horrified to see Ollie. It was the first time in his life that he’d needed legal representation and Ollie and George had been recommended to him. He’d been told that they were the best around and he didn’t want to have to find another firm. The issue was that he had intended to underplay his role in the drugs trade but, seeing Ollie, he knew there was no point being anything less than honest. There was always the chance that they would feel inclined to be good to him because he was Kojo’s brother so he stood his ground.

“Arko,” said Ollie, stony faced, politely if unwillingly greeting the young man. He turned to his dad. “This waste of space is Kojo’s brother,” he explained bluntly. Arko struck out the thought that his relationship to Kojo would be an advantage.

“Ah,” said George knowingly. “So you’ll be the one who tried to involve his fourteen year old brother in moving drugs and beat him savagely when he refused.” Arko looked at the ceiling, almost as if he wanted to see the hopelessness descending. “Also the one who dragged him off a train against his will, drew a knife on his friend whilst dragging her away against her will and then drew a gun on him. That Arko.”

Arko stood up, noisily pushing his chair back and, without making any eye contact with George and Ollie, left the room.

“Get back in here,” bellowed George. Arko had his hand on the outside door. Who was this old brother shouting at him and ordering him around? he thought resentfully. His lawyer hopefully, said his rational brain, so he turned and slunk back into the room, taking his seat again.

“So, tell us why you’re here,” said George, adopting a friendlier tone.

“I’m going to be arrested,” sulked Arko. “It’s my first offence.” George and Ollie laughed.

“It is NOT your first offence, Arko,” Ollie pointed out. “It’ll be your first arrest. You’re going to be arrested for something where you ARE guilty. You’ve just been lucky to have got away with it so far.”

“If you’re gonna be my lawyers, aren’t you supposed to be getting’ me off?” This wasn’t going how Arko had expected.

“If we represent you, you’ll be pleading guilty because you very clearly ARE guilty,” advised George. “Our job will be to make sure that you are given a fair sentence. Of course, you are within your rights to find representation willing to submit a not guilty plea but don’t kid yourself. You will still be found guilty because you ARE guilty. Your sentence is likely to be harsher in that instance.”

“I haven’t been arrested yet. I could run,” argued Arko half-heartedly. Ollie and George looked at him doubtfully.

“Your upcoming arrest is part of a huge police case. We know a lot about it. There are significant resources in this case so we advise against running. They WILL find you. And then things will be worse for you.” Ollie was spelling it out for Arko as clearly as possible.

Arko slumped in his year. He was actually much smarter than he seemed and he understood the situation perfectly. He was only nineteen and he’d already done his research and anticipated somewhere between five and ten years inside, fewer if he kept his nose clean. He had always been envious of Kojo’s place at their gran’s house and had many times rued the bad decisions he’d made.

“How do I get to restart my life? Away from drugs. Away from gangsters. Be like Kojo.” Asking his question, George and Ollie heard his true voice and were reminded of his youth and his traumatic childhood. His eyes pleaded with them for help. “I’m smart as well, just like him.”

“That’s what you want?” asked George. Arko nodded. “Then it starts in prison,” advised George. “Keep out of trouble. Get some qualifications.” George leaned forward. “If I can be convinced you are serious, I will help you. Make sure that you get the support you need.”

George was finding great purpose in his retirement in supporting disadvantaged black people. His working life had enabled him to build a wide network of influential contacts and he was determined to use these to good effect. Ollie was very proud of his dad. He was also interested in this kind of community work and was making sure he joined in when he could. Was Arko serious? It was hard to tell but if he was then Ollie wanted to be supportive.

Arko sat up straighter and looked Ollie and George directly in the eye.

“I’ll do what you say.”

+++

**Six months later**

Meg could hardly believe it and couldn’t break the smile off her face. Frankie was driving but Marcus could feel Meg’s grin without seeing it and he turned round from the front seat to talk to her.

“Has it sunk in yet?” he asked. “The suspended sentence. The fact that it’s all over.”

“The fact that I’m HERE,” exclaimed Meg, aware she was almost shouting. She was going to France with her friends on a holiday. She had never been on holiday and she was enormously excited. Everybody else had been nervous about her using her fake passport but Meg hadn’t; as far as she was concerned, she WAS Megan Smith. She had faced the border controller confidently knowing she was being herself.

“You get the best gite, the one down near the beach, because it’s your first visit,” explained Marcus, finding Meg’s enthusiasm bewitching.

“Can you hear the sea at night when you’re in bed?” asked Meg. Marcus nodded. “How near is it?” she went on, a thousand questions rushing into her head.

“When the sea is in, it’s about, oh, twenty metres from your gite,” replied Marcus, laughing as he saw Meg’s face light up. He couldn’t wait to see her reaction when they got there.

Callum, Ben, Roman and Tyler were in the car in front and Ollie, Tom, Kojo and Lexi were in the car behind and their little convoy was almost at its destination. They’d had a much less fussy journey than last year and were going to arrive in time for supper. The sun was on its way down and when they pulled up to the house, Marcus jumped out and urged Meg to follow him.

“Hi Kathy, Mike,” he said hurriedly. “Want to show Meg the sunset.” The pair disappeared in the direction of the beach. It started a trend and before long the whole party was on the sand. Kathy and Mike decided to go with the spontaneity and started to move rugs and blankets, food and drink down to the shore. Roman and Tyler helped Marcus build a fire which was soon crackling and cackling along with the party. Spirits were high.

Ben felt an excitement starting to bubble up inside him. There were days ahead of relaxing and laughing with people they loved deeply, cycling through the beautiful countryside and walking along stunning beaches, or scudding along the waves watching huge white sails catch the warm wind. The sun was about to fall out of sight below the horizon leaving a sky marbled with pinks, warm yellows and turquoises. He turned to Callum, standing right beside him, and smiled, his blue eyes reflecting the tones of the sky. Callum’s eyes grew large and his huge smile broke out.

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous in this light,” he smiled, pulling Ben in for a light kiss. “This is great but I might need to get you to bed soon,” he whispered in his ear.

“I think we’re expect to eat,” laughed Ben, “but an early night? Yeah!” They turned their attention to helping Kathy lay out the food.

Meg had thrown off her shoes and was standing in the sea, mesmerised by the fast-changing colours reflected in the water. She stretched her fingers so that they were almost touching the surface, wanting to feel the sparkling, iridescent spectrum there but reluctant to disturb it. Marcus sat on the sand silently watching her, joined by Frankie. He adored being here at Kathy’s and Mike’s house – it was such a treat to be right on the beach – but it was the people that made it so special, his soulmate Frankie, the Mitchell-Highway family with their loud and crazy love, Ollie and Tom with their quiet devotion and then Meg, full of new energy as though she had just arrived on earth. He remembered Kojo’s response to the sea the previous year, roaring as though it had awakened him, and was unsurprised to see him join Meg in the water. It was like it called to him.

Kathy felt like a tsunami of joy had swept through her home. Watching Ben with Callum, her heart surged with love for him, for all of them of course, but there would always be a special place in her heart for her son. It was everything to her to see him thriving. She watched a burst of pleasure on his face in response to something Callum said and she thanked every lucky star that was appearing in the sky for the gift of her son-in-law. He was a beacon of love in their family.

“Perhaps I should be more partisan and love my own children and grandchildren more, but I think this crew is my favourite group of guests,” remarked Mike, putting an arm around Kathy and smiling down at her. “They bring so much life with them.”

After they’d all eaten, Tom got out his guitar and, because everybody was in such a great mood, it turned into a rowdy singalong largely led by Ben. Callum was a better singer but Ben’s enthusiasm was infectious and drew everybody in. Before long he was on his feet dancing and singing in full entertainment mode with Tyler and Lexi joining him; Tyler was almost as big an exhibitionist as him and Lexi simply loved dancing with him. Frankie couldn’t hear the music but Marcus had developed a range of ways to share it with her over the years they had been together. Holding her close while he was singing was one of them and she pressed her back into his chest, giggling to herself at the physical sensation of his singing as he played percussion on her arms.

Despite Ben’s and Callum’s earlier intention, it turned into a very late night and the sun was high in the sky before anybody rose in the morning.

First up were Tom and Kojo.

Tom had things on his mind and knew a swim in the sea would be a good way of stirring them up; they needed thinking about a different way. He and Ollie had started off the adoption process but had encountered homophobia, racism and sexism to an extent that had shaken them both. Neither of them was naïve; they were fully aware that it was a difficult road to travel but it was inexplicable that it would be so much more so for a gay, black man. Tom was extremely distressed that Ollie had been bruised and angered by the experience and found himself discussing it with fifteen year old Kojo when they broke from swimming, clambering onto a large rock near the shore.

“You know you and Ollie are MY dads,” said Kojo. Tom was warmed by his generosity.

“Ah, that’s kind of you to say, Ko,” he replied then stopped in his tracks. Kojo was right. “Actually mate, we see ourselves as your dads. So, well, how good is it that we all think that?”

“It’s very, very good,” affirmed Kojo. He looked at Tom thoughtfully. “I’m not saying you don’t get it but racism, it leaves you feeling like … less … but you know you’re not but … kinda so what? It’s … I don’t know how to explain it but it’s like offensive, more’n I can explain. And it’s like the first thing people see and you can’t change it. I’m not sure you can get it, not really, if you’re not … if you’re not black.”

“No, I’m sure you’re right. But I get the gay bit,” said Tom. “So between me and you, maybe we get Ollie.”

“True,” agreed Kojo. “So what’re you gonna do?”

“Swim.” Tom dived off the rock into the sea and turned to watch Kojo dive in a smooth arc, cutting into the water cleanly. They swam back towards the house and emerged from the sea to see a late breakfast being enjoyed by most of the rest of the party. Kojo sat down next to Lexi, dripping over her deliberately and chuckling at her determination to say nothing. Ollie wasn’t there so Tom went to find him and discovered him sitting absentmindedly on their bed. He ran an affectionate hand over his head and shoulders.

“Good swim?” asked Ollie, looking up with a warm smile.

“Yeah, good chat an’ all,” replied Tom. “Kojo talked about how he sees us as his dads. Talked a bit about how racism makes him feel.”

“You told him about the non-adoption.” Ollie’s voice was a little brittle and Tom sat down next to him surprised.

“Yeah, is that wrong?” he asked. Ollie shook his head.

“No, I guess not,” he answered glumly. “What he said about us being his dads, it’s how I feel about him. And it might be as near as we get to it.”

“We don’t have to give up, Ols. I hate how it’s making you feel though.” Tom placed his hands on Ollie’s face, cradling his jaw. “You know you’re incredible. I think you’re the best person I’ve ever met. But I can’t make this any better.” Ollie absorbed the warmth from Tom.

“It would be worse if you didn’t want to, so you do make it better,” he said, leaning his cheek into Tom’s hand and turning to kiss it. “I think … I think we should give up the idea.” He stopped to watch Tom’s reaction and saw his face relaxing.

“I hate how it’s making me feel as well,” admitted Tom. They rested for a bit, foreheads together before Tom spoke again. “So … that’s it. We’re letting it go?” Pulling apart, they held each other’s gaze for a long moment.

“Yeah?” checked Ollie.

“Yeah,” confirmed Tom, more relieved than he had expected and he had expected to be relieved.

“We could come up with another way to make a difference. My dad had a good idea of extending his mentoring scheme for disadvantaged kids by going into prisons.”

“It’s a great idea,” agreed Tom, thinking that there might be a way for him to use his musical expertise. He was eager to be part of the community work that Ollie and his dad had started.

“So when we get back, we start something.” Ollie smiled and Tom saw the first genuine smile he had seen in weeks. He pulled Ollie to standing.

“You hungry? I’m starving. If we don’t get a move on Frankie and Kojo will have eaten everything.”

A weight had been lifted from their shoulders and, heading towards breakfast, they both felt like they could now enjoy their holiday.

+++

The weather could not have been more sublime. Meg had the gite with the wide sea view and she decided to sleep without closing the shutters so that the first thing she saw every day was the perfect, blue sky. It was like getting a shot of happiness first thing each morning. She quickly got into a routine of waking, making herself a herbal tea and then sitting on the small deck to watch Tom and Kojo swimming.

To her surprise, her skin tanned easily. She had never spent enough time outside to know this and had always used the palest make-up she could find, convinced that she was pale. Her hair had grown into a short curly bob and she had decided to embrace her natural colour. Halfway through the holidays, she stood in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom and saw the new her; she liked what she saw.

Later that day, they all visited the beautiful, little town that was nearest to the house. It had a fabulous market and, as she and Tom stood perusing the patisserie, the stall holder made the assumption that she was Tom’s sister. Tom grinned at her and then informed the stall holder that his sister loved cake earning her a complimentary box of cakes. It was a moment of connection between the two of them that made her feel happy. They had become close during the holiday, the two of them spending a lot of time talking with Frankie and Marcus, sharing interests in the arts, healthy eating and, especially, yoga which they took to doing together on the beach in the morning.

She loved mealtimes best of all. The whole group came together and laughed and talked. She couldn’t follow the conversations as there were too many people talking at once but she revelled in the energy of it all; it was intoxicating. It amazed her how much they could all eat. She ate like a sparrow and her habit of eating foods in groups persisted but nobody commented so she didn’t feel self-conscious. Watching them enjoy the food so much, she even tried things that were new to her. She felt like her world was expanding.

Going back to the market one day, the cake-bestowing stall holder offered her a beckoning smile. She’d brushed up her school French for this trip and, typical of her, had quickly developed a good proficiency. This turned out to be useful as, when the handsome, young man asked her to join him for a coffee, she understood perfectly what he was saying. Thanks to Frankie’s tutelage, she also understood that this was an approach signifying that he was interested in getting to know her. Surprising herself, she agreed. After telling Tom where she was going, she found herself at a very picturesque back street café having coffee and pastry with Matthieu.

“How was your date?” asked Tom, when she rejoined the group.

“It wasn’t a date. Yeah, he’s friendly. Asked me for my number and gave me his.” Meg looked decidedly uncertain.

“We can drop you off and pick you up if you want to meet him,” offered Kathy, listening to the exchange and always ready to encourage romance. But she understood Meg and had another suggestion. “Or, if you prefer, he can join us at the house.” Meg perked up at that. The thought of going out with Matthieu by herself was too much but with other people around – her people – she thought it might be okay.

“Tonight?” she asked.

“Yes, love, if that’s what you want,” agreed Kathy. Meg nodded and fired off a quick text.

+++

Matthieu turned up at the beach house both curious and nervous. He’d picked up that Meg was a little different to most women but that suited him – he was a little different himself. He was a trans man and his previous attempts to connect with women romantically had not gone well but something about Meg gave him hope. His dilemma now was when to tell her. Sooner rather than later was his preference, otherwise it ate away at him constantly.

He’d watched this group of English people in the market last summer and they had intrigued him. He felt an affinity to them that he couldn’t quite explain. When they turned up again this summer with the beautiful, young woman with the awkward manners, he was especially drawn to her. It was in a fit of boldness that he had given her the box of cakes which had propelled him into the coffee date and giving her his number. When she had texted less than quarter of an hour later, his excitement had spiked. Maybe he was going to get this right.

He knew the house. Everybody who lived in the area knew this house. It had once been a smuggler’s cottage and none of the local people had wanted it when it was for sale more than fifty years ago. Mike’s father had bought it but had rarely used it. When Mike moved in, he developed the site extending the cottage and installing the pool and the gites using a firm of builders from outside of the area. Nobody local had seen it finished. The boulangerie delivered here but never went round the back of the house. It was a local mystery … and here he was, Matthieu who the whole town thought was a little off, with an invitation.

Seeing everybody’s eyes on him as he arrived was nerve-wracking, but his anxiety was soon allayed. Everybody was extremely friendly. They were unusual this crowd, he decided as he was introduced to their friend Charlie who was attending dinner remotely (“He doesn’t leave his flat” explained Meg, clearly completely accepting of that idea). Matthieu felt a thrill as it crossed his mind that they might be completely accepting of him. There was a comfortable mix of French and English spoken and signed so that he could be part of things and by the time dinner was over he felt like he known them much longer than an evening.

The sun had gone down and he and Meg took blankets down to the beach.

“I want to tell you something about me,” said Matthieu. He would have liked to have eye contact while he was telling his truth but he’d picked up that Meg didn’t do that so he held her hand instead. “Meg, I’m trans.” His eyes flitted over her face trying to pick up her reaction.

“I’m autistic,” she replied. “Sometimes I tell people because it helps them understand me. I wish I didn’t have to though. I wish it wasn’t such a problem to them.” She looked at him, actually looked at him, and he recognised the privilege. “Do you feel like that?” she asked.

“Exactly like that,” he replied, holding her eyes for another short moment. She reached up and cupped his cheek, rubbing her thumb across his lips.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked, watching his lips. He nodded, holding his breath and unable to speak. It was exquisite: tentative and soft yet passionate. “My first kiss,” admitted Meg. Could she start again? she wondered. “I want to tell you something about me,” she said and told Matthieu about her past. He held her close to him as she spoke of the worst things and wiped away the brimming tears with tender fingers.

“We can find our own way,” suggested Matthieu when she’d finished her tale. Meg kissed him again.

+++

Kojo and Lexi set off early for a beach that was couple of hours away cycling and walking. The club they had been attending all year had helped Lexi get stronger and fitter and she was confident about keeping up with Kojo on the journey. Not that he ever left her behind but she didn’t like to think he would have to slow down for her.

“How did they even find this one?” Kojo looked around at the tiny beach in the rocky cove.

“Dad’s obsessed with beaches,” explained Lexi. “He spends hours on Google Earth checking every centimetre of the coast.” She pulled off her shorts and top as she watched Kojo explore, waiting for the moment he discovered the plunge pool. Sure enough, it came.

“Hey! Look at this, Lex!” Kojo was lowering himself into the water when she reached him. “Shit, it’s cold,” he shivered, “and there’s no bottom. Where does it go? Did you know it was here? Have you ever gone further down?”

“If you’re brave enough, it goes through a little tunnel about three meters down and it comes out over here.” Lexi clambered over the rocks and indicated the spot. Kojo immediately turned and went headfirst into the pool, emerging seconds later to see Lexi’s face smiling at him.

“Ha!” he exclaimed, exhilarated. “Have you ever done that?” Lexi disappeared, he heard a soft splosh and a few seconds later he felt her coming up alongside him. This pool was smaller and they found themselves close together. He felt her legs moving to tread water, brushing against his legs. Kojo slipped his arm around her waist. It was instinctual; he was making sure she was alright. As he did it, he heard her quietly gasp and felt her give slightly, moving almost imperceptibly closer to him. He could feel the shape of her waist under his hand and was immediately conscious of every point of contact between their bodies and, without consciously thinking about it, he succumbed to the moment and dropped a light kiss on her lips. It was a split second but a jolt of intense delight fizzed through his brain. Then he remembered: Lexi, best friend, unavailable. That tiny moment when their lips had met had been electrifying and it was everything he could do not to move in for another kiss. Scrambling out of the pool, he ran back to their blanket and sunk his head in his knees. What had he done? Shit, shit, shit.

Lexi pushed herself out of the small pool and sat on the edge touching her lips. The kiss had been thrilling, making her skin tingle from head to toe. She’d kissed a few boys at parties this year and not one of those kisses had been exciting like this one. Standing up, she walked back to the blanket, all the time watching Kojo hugging his knees and hiding his face. She knelt down beside him.

“Ko,” she said.

“Shit, I’m sorry Lex. That was out of order. I should never’ve …”

“It felt nice,” she said simply. He lifted his head to look at her. Now was the time for honesty.

“I would always choose you, Lex. It wouldn’t matter who else was there, I would choose you ‘cause you’re always the most interesting, the funniest, the most real. I would choose you because you’re … shit, you’re so beautiful. You’re amazing.” He looked at her, wet curls framing her face, freckles dotted across her nose, burning summer skies staring at him. “But I can’t choose you because you’re my best friend, I need you in my life and I can’t afford to lose you.”

Lexi was conflicted. All the girls were drawn to Kojo and hoped he would choose them and here he was saying that he would choose her. It was a huge compliment. He was looking at her from his huge, dark brown eyes, always so full of warmth and emotion, and she knew that if she didn’t suppress it she would feel the same way about him. Had she kept the feeling at bay because she was protecting their friendship? Or because she’d been anxious he wouldn’t feel the same?

“Say something,” he murmured.

She was her father’s daughter and knew how to be cheeky in an awkward moment.

“You’re extremely good-looking and completely ripped. So I would choose you.”

“Idiot,” he moaned, disappointed that she hadn’t responded to his honesty, but immensely relieved that she didn’t seem to be annoyed that he’d kissed her. He stretched out to lay on the blanket. Lexi lay next to him and watched the clear blue sky, no light or dark patches, no clouds, just a simple, solid, bright blue.

“I don’t know what to say, Ko. That kiss was really nice and … exciting. I want more, I know I do. But you’re almost sixteen and I’m only fourteen. I’ve seen you with girls. You might want … ermm … different things and, well, that’s something that’s maybe something so … I don’t … ermm … we’d have to go slow. And you’re right, we’re best friends and it could be complicated. But I reckon it might be complicated now anyway.”

“So …” Kojo couldn’t work out what she was saying.

“We stay best friends whatever happens, that’s always the most important thing,” stated Lexi. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, always,” confirmed Kojo, still wondering what she was getting at.

“We want to choose each other,” she carried on. “So,” she turned and leant over to kiss him, “let’s …”

After half an hour of exhilarating snogging, they broke apart.

“Are we actually going out with each other? Is that what we’re going to do?” Kojo wanted clarity. This was Lexi not some random girl at a party and he wanted to know where things stood. Lexi was euphoric, her head swimming from all the kissing, and had to focus to concentrate on Kojo’s question. Earlier in the year, she’d gone out with Jack Shaw for a few months. What did going out even mean?

“What DOES that mean?” she asked. “When I was going out with Jack we never once went out anywhere.”

“It means you’re not going to go off snogging someone else, which, as I remember it, is what you did to Jack.” Kojo had found it almost unbearable to think about Lexi and Jack and had experienced some green-eyed satisfaction when Lexi had behaved so badly. He gazed at her thoughtfully.

“You don’t have a lot of self-control,” he commented. Lexi glared at him crossly.

“You can talk. I’ve seen you with one girl and then a couple of hours later with another.”

“So we’re both tarts,” laughed Kojo before becoming earnest. “Seriously though Lex, friends with benefits is … I don’t know. Do you want to keep it like that? Sometimes together, sometimes not?” Lexi was dismayed at this suggestion but was determined not to show it.

“We could try that,” she said, her heart twisting more with every word.

It wasn’t what Kojo meant and he was bewildered about how he’d given that impression. It was NOT what he wanted. Was it really what she wanted? he wondered. Needing a break from the confusion , he decided on a swim.

Lexi watched him go recognising that something had gone awry in the conversation. She replayed it in her head trying to figure out where it had derailed. By the time Kojo returned, she was hopping mad. He was towelling himself dry when she launched into a furious diatribe.

“You said ‘I would always choose you Lexi, no matter who else was there’. You said that. How does that fit with ‘sometimes together, sometimes not’? You want to stay best friends. How would you feel if some boy was acting all like he was kind of with me, kind of not? You’d think he was treating me badly, I know you would. You’re my best friend and you’d feel bad for me. Yes, yes, Kojo you would,” she snapped as he looked like he was about to protest. “But it would be alright for you to do that? You don’t want to have to worry about how I might feel when you’re snogging the face of Ellie or Sara or Jayleigh or Molly-May or whatever seventeenth girl of the night you’re onto?”

Kojo couldn’t help himself and burst out laughing. This definitely meant she wanted to go out with him properly and he was ecstatic. Dropping down to the blanket, he pulled her up and wrapped his arms around her, making sure she was held firmly and couldn’t wriggle away which was what she was trying to do.

“Hmmm … there’s definitely something about you when you’re angry … which is a good job, ‘cause you’re angry quite a lot … ouch! Just keep still, will ya?” He continued to hold her close, every now and then kissing her head and eventually she gave in.

“Alright put me down. I’m okay,” she grumbled, sitting back on the blanket.

“Right, enough messin’ about,” ordered Kojo. “I want to always choose you Lex but it’s not happening unless you’re going to always choose me. That’s how I feel.”

“That’s what I want as well,” said Lexi. “You choose me, I choose you. We both don’t choose other people.” She looked at him cheekily. “Ready for that blood oath yet?”

“Ridiculous,” he muttered then looked at her strangely, like something had just dawned upon him. “But I’d probably rather do that than what we’re actually going to have to do.”

“What’s that?” asked Lexi, suddenly worried.

“Tell the dads.”

+++

As feared, Lexi and Kojo found themselves summoned to a campfire meeting with Callum, Ben, Ollie and Tom.

“Just don’t make this embarrassing,” pleaded Lexi, rolling her eyes for maximum effect.

“Nobody’s disapproving sweetheart,” soothed Callum. In truth, they’d all seen this coming for a while so it wasn’t exactly a surprise.

“I’m not worried about that. Disapproving and parent go right together,” snarked Lexi insolently. “I’m worried you’re gonna tell us stuff we already know which will just be embarrassing.”

“It’s about healthy respect,” started Ollie, stopping when both Lexi and Kojo closed their eyes in exasperation.

“To save you time,” said Lexi with as much calm as she could muster, “we’ve done consent at school. We’re good.”

“Enough!” snapped Ben, knowing that Ollie wouldn’t have taken offence but wishing anyway that Lexi would watch her mouth. “We are gonna talk and you, young lady, are going to listen. This is not just any boy you’ve taken up with – it’s Kojo. Your closest friend who you love dearly. All those steps couples go through of getting to know each other, well you’ve done them already. So this is not like the normal beginning of a relationship. You have leapfrogged all that. The only thing you haven’t done is the physical stuff and we just wanna say that you’re out of sync. You’re at the beginning in one way and in another you’re far, far along. You tell us if you’ve thought about that.” He glared at Lexi and she glared back in their usual face-off manner. He could read her mind though and he knew that she’d heard the sense in what he had said. So had Kojo.

“Yeah a bit,” he answered quietly. “We’re the same, me and Lex. Kissing at parties, that sort of stuff.” Lexi closed her eyes again, knowing that this was something her dads didn’t know. “But I’m a bit older so I just want you all to know, we go at Lexi’s pace. Unless she wants to go too fast for me, then we go at my pace.”

The four adults were impressed with Kojo’s maturity. Lexi could see it and was briefly irritated. Taking it slow had been something she’d mentioned to Kojo not the other way round. She was about to cut in and let them know when she felt Kojo’s hand reaching for hers, silently urging her to keep her temper.

“This might feel like the most important thing in your life,” said Tom, “but it’s GCSE year, Ko. You need to stay focused on school.”

“Oh, ‘cause I wouldn’t think that was important,” sulked Lexi. Ben and Callum both shot angry glares at her. She would be getting a piece of their minds about cheek.

“Actually Lex, I know you do,” confirmed Tom, acknowledging her sense rather than dismissing it and winning her over for his consideration. “But this thing you have together, it will be distracting. It should be. It should be exciting and thrilling. Which means it will be distracting.” He could see he had convinced them.

“Yeah, okay,” muttered Lexi. “We’re not going to start spending all our time together. It’ll be seeing each other as much as we normally do.” She was about to add “and you wouldn’t have had a problem with that” when she reigned herself in and took a breath. Kojo squeezed her hand and they shared a quick smile with each other.

“Are we good? Can we go?” asked Lexi. Permission was granted and she and Kojo escaped before the old farts had a chance to add anything else.

The four of them opened more wine as they merrily carried on their way to being pleasantly inebriated.

“So Lexi’s been kissing all the boys,” remarked Ben, chuckling to himself. “She kept that quiet. We thought it was just Jack Shaw. I wonder if she told Lo.” He suspected not. Lola would have told him.

“I hope they don’t fall out,” said Ollie. “It’ll devastate them both. The heartbreak will be as monumental as the love.” Ben giggled.

“You are always maudlin’ on a drink, Ols. I bet they’ve already had a barney since they got together at lunchtime,” he laughed. “At least we know Kojo knows full well what a nightmare she is.”

“I dunno but I think they’ll be okay,” said Callum. “They make sense together. They always have.”

“You’re an incurable romantic on a drink,” gushed Ben, glugging more wine and making heart eyes at his husband.

“And, when you’ve had a few, you’re a gobby shite,” grouched Ollie fondly, blowing a kiss at Ben. Ben caught it and held it to his heart, still giggling and cuddling Callum. “Okay, a mushy, gobby shite,” qualified Ollie.

“We talked to Ko about not adopting and he said we were his dads,” said Tom, leaning into Ollie and grinning at him soppily. “So if they go the distance and have kids, those kids will have four grandads and they’ll be us.” He waved his arms at the four of them and then burst out laughing. “We tell them to take it slow, and I’ve got them married off.”

“Shit Ols, we’re both married to incurable romantics,” complained Ben good-naturedly. “Which means we get to be the moody gits, and they get to try to persuade us to be nice. Callum is VERY good at persuading.”

“Is that right?” teased Callum, getting in a sneaky kiss.

“Yep!” asserted Ben confidently. “You good at persuading, Tom?”

“Yes he is!” Ollie claimed, now well on his way to being drunk. “I can vouch for that!”

“Actually you’re not both married to incurable romantics,” corrected Tom, “not yet anyway.” Callum and Ben sat up straight.

“What?”

“You’re …?”

Ollie and Tom wrapped arms around each other and laughed at their friends.

“Yes we are!” smiled Ollie. “And we want you to be our best men and your kids and Kojo to be attendants. What do you think?”

“I think YES!” yelled Ben, running and jumping into their laps, arms around both of them. Callum wasn’t far behind him, longer arms enveloping all three of them.

“So, so happy for you both,” he shouted over the noise of them all laughing as they fell backwards. “Let me go and get some champagne.”

+++

Frankie, Marcus, Meg, Roman and Tyler had been out with Kathy and Mike on Mike’s boat for the day and had stopped in the local town for dinner. By the time they got back to the house, celebrations for Tom’s and Ollie’s engagement were two bottles of champagne in.

“Tom said something and Ben got very excited and then they all got very excited and came to get champagne,” explained Kojo.

“They’re a bit drunk,” added Lexi.

The jubilant four spotted the returning party and staggered over.

“Ollies ‘n’ Tom’s getting’ smarried,” slurred Ben. “Me ‘n’ Callum,” he continued, pulling Callum in for yet another kiss, “we’s bein best smen.” Roman frowned at him and immediately went inside to get water. Everybody else got busy congratulating the newly engaged pair.

When Roman returned, he got Ben’s attention.

“Drink Daddy,” he said, “please.” Ben looked into his son’s eyes, not so drunk that he couldn’t see them full of tears. He led Roman to the nearby table and sat down, pulling him onto his lap. Not saying a word, he drank his water and focused on being as sober as he could.

“Thank you Bubba. I needed that.” He smiled gently. “Do you know why I’m holding you tight?” Roman shook his head. “One, because I like it. Two, because you like it. Or maybe that’s the other way round. Three, because it reminds me that I’m here to look after you. I’m sorry you felt like you needed to look after me.” The thought was sobering and he gave himself a mental reminder not to risk getting so drunk in front of the children. “Are you off to bed, Bubs?”

“Yeah,” murmured Roman, snuggling into Ben’s neck. “I’m REALLY tired.”

“I’d love to carry you but you’re too big. I’d drop you,” said Ben, conscious that the drink had at least something to do with it.

“’S alright,” smiled Roman, pushing to his feet and stroking Ben’s cheek, a little habit he had that made Ben melt every time he did it. “G’night Daddy.”

Callum watched Ben with Roman, his heart burgeoning; he loved to see Ben like this – it was definitely his favourite side of him. He thought about Tom’s throwaway comment earlier. It was years and years away but it was possible that one day he and Ben would have children with partners and grandchildren. He had a moment of disbelief. Was this really his life? He felt like the luckiest man alive.

“You watching Dad and Ro?” asked Lexi, coming in for a cuddle and tracking Callum’s gaze.

“Yeah, it’s lovin’. I like to see it. But you have my full attention now sweetheart.” He looked down at her looking up. “You’re so grown up Lexi. It scares me and makes me proud in equal measure.”

“You okay about me and Kojo?” He could see in her face that it was important to have his approval.

“I can’t think of how you could find a better boyfriend. He’s great. You know me and Dad think he’s great.” She smiled happily and resumed her cuddle.

As Roman left, Ben watched Callum with Lexi. He remembered first introducing Lexi to Callum. They’d hit it off straightaway. Lexi’s determination that Callum would adopt her, the way she turned to him when she had things on her mind, even the way they bickered led Ben to one conclusion: he had found her the best dad. He loved to see them cuddled close, Lexi looking up and Callum looking down, their connection firm and strong. As he watched, Tyler came to join him.

“I’m going to bed,” he said, his tone a little grumpy. Of all their children, Tyler was the most independent and the least cuddly. But Ben and Callum knew that sometimes he felt like he was bottom of the pecking order so, when they could, they tried to give him a boost.

“Before you go,” enticed Ben, “do you want to know some news? I have two pieces to share. Roman doesn’t know yet but you can tell him.” He knew the last sentence would sell it.

“Does Lexi know?” Tyler wanted even more.

“Well, yes for one piece, but only because it’s about her. Not for the other piece.” He smiled as Tyler leaned in, slinging an arm around his shoulder, ears waiting. “Okay, one, Lexi is going out with Kojo.” He waited for a reaction and was not disappointed.

“Lexi and Kojo? Kojo is Lexi’s boyfriend?” Tyler was clearly intrigued. He loved gossiping with Ben.

“Yeah. Interesting, yeah? Okay, two, Tom and Ollie are getting married, Dad and me are going to be best men, you, Roman, Lexi and Kojo are to be attendants.”

“New suits?” Tyler loved his clothes.

“Yes. You can look even more handsome than usual. So good news, eh?” Ben dropped a kiss on Tyler’s forehead and earned himself the gorgeous Highway grin.

“Yeah.” He yawned widely, leaning more into Ben and enjoying the squeeze. “I’m going to bed. G’night Dad.” As he left, Callum sauntered over, carrying a glass of water for each of them.

“This is the holiday of love,” he laughed. “Meg and Matthieu, Lexi and Kojo, Tom and Ollie. There must be something in the air.”

+++

The last night of the holiday mirrored the first. A sinuous fire danced for them as they sat and drank in the beautiful atmosphere.

Callum was feeling emotional. Here he was, arms tight around his wonderful husband, watching their beautiful children be relaxed and happy, laughing with their family and their greatest friends. His heart lifted as his gaze stopped on Meg. She was hugging herself with delight; that was really the only way to describe it. The past couple of years, well actually the past eight years, had been unbelievably hard for her but she was here and she was full of joy. Catching Callum looking at her, her face broke into a wide smile. Kathy and Mike were next to receive his scrutiny, holding one each of Roman and Tyler who were giggling at a story Mike was telling. Callum remembered how Kathy had welcomed him into her home with Ben and Lexi and his heart refilled with love for her. She was the anchor in their family. Looking round for Lexi, he spotted her in the shadows, doing exactly the same as him, surveying her wonderful life … including him. She made a little heart shape with her hands and grinned at him.

Ben could sense Callum’s rising happiness and leant his head back against his husband’s chest to get as close as he could to him, hands circling the arms that were holding him so tightly as he felt Callum’s face in his hair, scattering kisses on his skull. He wasn’t sure he had ever felt happier than in this moment. This had been a great year so far. MHI had settled into a rhythm that was working well for all of them, with interesting cases and nothing dangerous. Watching Marcus, Frankie and Meg enjoying this perfect evening with them, he reflected on how close they all were. The calls with Charlie to enable him to join them on this holiday had worked so well and it made him smile with pride at how they were all determined to be inclusive and make everything possible. On the other side of the fire, Tom, Ollie and Kojo were chatting, a single blanket slung around all of their shoulders they were sitting so close to each other. This was friendship and family and love.

Ben turned his face upwards as Callum looked down. Their eyes met: sparkling, shimmering blue and deep, shining blue, tethered tightly, their unbreakable bond reaffirmed. No words were needed. Their lips met as softly as lips could meet, conveying perfectly their deep love. For all time.


End file.
